The Order of Merlin
by Carver Twain
Summary: (Merlin x Harry Potter Crossover: Founders Era) Until a letter from Hogwarts, Merlin was simply an odd boy in a quiet village. So, he makes the long journey to the new magic school in the north. There he finds kindred spirits: wizards and witches. He thrives. He learns. Years later, a young, fully trained wizard arrives in Camelot with a distrust of muggles, but nowhere else to go.
1. The Owl and the Newt

**Chapter 1: The Owl and the Newt**

* * *

Merlin would have liked to have said that it had all started with the letter. Or perhaps with the owl. He would very much like have something solid to blame. Something he could point to and say, 'There! That's where it went wrong! It's not my fault.' But if he was going to honest with himself, he should have seen this coming much sooner. Maybe even years ago. He deserved a good portion of the blame, if not all of the blame. It could have all been avoided if he had just learned to keep his temper and hold his tongue. All this was running through his mind as he chased a small, brown newt that was once Trey, John Marwood's son, around the floor of his prison cell.

* * *

He finally caught the little newt named Trey Marwood and stuffed the wriggling thing in one of the large pockets on his trousers. Just as he did so the door to the holding cells opened up and a few guards came in, followed by Godwin, the reeve of the village.

Godwin nodded at Merlin. "This is the boy caught in the millpond?"

"Good day, Reeve Godwin." Merlin tried beaming at Godwin and the guards but his split lip and swollen, bruised cheek made it difficult.

"And accused of giving Allan and Edbert of the Selby farm a beating?" Reeve Godwin continued in his monotone, staring down Merlin.

Merlin tried to keep the smile on his face, cursing Al and Ed as much as he dared. Those pillocks! Those damn clotpoles! Idiots, both of them. Big, dumb idiots who picked on scrawny boys like him and Will. But at the smallest bit of trouble, off they run, off to their mothers, wailing about Funny Merlin. Merlin did this! Merlin did that! One day Merlin really is going to do something, then they'll be sorry. Those snitches! If he ever saw them again, he'd-

"Bring him out and we will hear his side of the story." Reeve Godwin sighed and turned and left before the guards had even opened Merlin's small cell.

One of the guards, or rather they were deputies of the reeve, took Merlin's shoulder and firmly steered him to the meeting hall. Godwin the reeve sat on a simple chair behind a table. Beside him stood Al and Ed.

"That's him, reeve!" Allen pointed at Merlin, crying out so that anyone passing outside the meeting hall could hear.

Merlin rolled his eyes, or just one eye, since the other was pretty much swollen shut at this point. When he did, he noticed that his mother was standing by as well, towards the back of the hall. She looked worried, hands twisting and bunching her apron. She gave Merlin a smile. It didn't really make him feel better. Somehow his mother had been caught up in all this and it made his heart sick.

Before he knew it, Godwin was speaking to him.

"Merlin Hunith's son, you have been brought before me today due to a number of accusations brought against you by Allen and Edbert here." As he spoke, the two boys smirked at Merlin. Merlin kept his eyes firmly on the reeve, but he could feel their sick smiles. He kept his hand on his pocket were the wriggling boy-turned-newt sat and kept his own sick smile to himself.

Godwin continued. "And by Milda, the miller's daughter." He heaved a sigh. "First being that you spied on Milda while she was bathing in the millpond. You claim that you had…" And he paused, looking upwards for a moment, in thought. "Ah, yes, you claim that you had decided to bathe as well, not noticing her, and accidentally swam right between her legs."

The two boys, Al and Ed, snickered.

"And, these two boys have claimed that you beat them soundly and did something horrible to their friend, ah, what was his name?"

"Trey, sir." Edbert prompted. "He's made Trey disappear! He's gone!"

"Well, I very much doubt that, Edbert, however Trey has yet to be found." Reeve Godwin turned his gaze back to Merlin. "Merlin, would you please give us your account of the events. And please, let it not be said that you need tell the truth."

Merlin nodded. His mother worked for the reeve in his household and he had known the man for most of his life. Or rather, the reeve had known Hunith's son since Merlin was a babe in arms. The reeve was fair, maybe a little cold, but he wasn't the kind of man to fly into a passion. He would calmly listen and pass sensible judgement. Which is why Merlin needed to come up with the most plausible story as he could. He couldn't really tell the reeve that he had turned the village bully into a newt. Merlin took a breath, looked at his mother, and began.

* * *

At dawn, he had gone out to work in the fields of the Selby farm. Over the winter, supplies were thin and they nearly starved. Jan Selby had 'loaned' them food, and shelter when the roof had fallen in from snowfall. Merlin was to work for them for several harvests until they felt the debt was repaid. It was fine work. And Jan was a fair man. So Merlin hadn't felt compelled to complain just yet.

The sun was nearly above the treeline when he noticed some of the other farmhands pointing towards the trees edging the fields. Merlin straightened up and squinted. Something sitting in the trees, a red kite perhaps? Perhaps not, there was some white coloring on it. Maybe? There were a lot of kites around the villages and farms here. Probably a kite. He went back to work, pulling up the best beets and carefully putting back those that needed a little more time. As he was tossing another handful in his basket, he noticed a couple of the farmhands leaving. Merlin watched them go.

Edbert, Jan's nephew, was passing by. "Ed." Merlin straightened up. "Where are they going?"

Ed jerked a thumb back to the trees. "Owl is sitting in a tree. It's back luck. What?" He grinned. "Wanna go join it?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Merlin sighed.

"'Cause you're bad luck too."

Merlin leaned down and went back to work, biting his lip.

Ed kept walking, smacking Merlin's head as he went, back to his place in the field.

A couple more hours stumbled by, sluggishly dragging their feet. The sun rose and began to bake the field down below. Sweat beaded and ran into Merlin's eyes. He scrunched his face and stood up. He tossed a beet aside and began rubbing at his eyes with the hopefully least dirty part of his hand. He finally got them open again and saw that the owl was still there, sitting in the trees, facing the field. Merlin had worked himself a little closer to the tree-line by now, and watched the bird. It may have been watching him too.

But no matter. Merlin picked up his full basket of sweet beets and began walking to the Selby house. After depositing the harvest with Jan's wife, he was let off for the day and retreated into the trees for the shade and a brief walk alone. Plus, his mother needed some kindling and he'd grab whatever fallen branches he could find. If he walked back across the field, toward home, he may find Ed again, or Allen, or worse Trey.

There was a little footpath or game-trail that led down to a small valley where a trickle of stream slithered through the forest. The shade felt absolutely amazing and he gathered dry twigs as he went. Merlin gingerly touched the back of his neck and winced. The sunburn he had had there was probably little worse because of today. He had to start wearing something around his neck, to keep off the sun while he worked. A kerchief. His mother might have one he could borrow.

At the bottom of the small ravine, he tossed his bundle of sticks to the side. Merlin lowered himself beside the small stream and laid down on the bank so he could reach the small rush of water below. He flicked some of the water on his face and neck then sat up again.

"Aaah!" He screamed.

An owl was there. About a handbreadth from his face. Sitting on a rock, still as a rock, and watching him. It hadn't been there a moment ago.

Merlin sat back and away from the bird with excellent talons. He eyed it for a moment then let out a sigh. "You scared me."

Of course the owl did not apologize. It just sat there, like an owl, and yet somehow not like an owl at all.

It had a large white face, black eyes, and a brown-grey body. And after a moment or two, it extended a foot and several talons towards Merlin, as though it wanted to shake hands. Merlin frowned. The talons remained out. He inched his hand towards it, careful of quick movements. The owl did not so much as stir. Merlin took the small foot in his fingers. Strange. There was something there. He leaned over and looked at the foot.

Tied with a piece of small, brown twine, a small roll of paper was affixed to the foot of the white-faced owl.

"What?" Merlin murmured. He let go of the foot.

The owl kept the foot outward, dark eyes unblinking.

Merlin reached out again and untied the paper from the owl's foot. He unfurled it. It was barely larger than his hand and the script written there was firm but the ink had spattered in a few places, green ink. Merlin could read, his mother had made sure of that, but only just. So, it took him a couple tries to get the gist of the writing. It read:

* * *

To The Merlin Hunith's Son

The Little Shack beside the Selby farm

Ealdor

Essetir

Englalande

Merlin Hunith's Son is a known user of magik and so has a place at this school of witch and wizard crafts. He is welcomed with warm embraces into the fellowship and will be instructed in the making of spells and potions and other magikal practises. Other users of magik have found the school a safe and happy place, and Merlin Hunith's Son will too. If Merlin Hunith's Son accepts the call to fellowship he has the owl and bringer of this message as a guide. The name of the owl is Drest.

Good health to you.

Rowena the Ravenclaw

* * *

Merlin had been sitting on his thighs and his feet were thoroughly numb now. Reading had always taken him a long time, he was slow, and he may have sat there for about half an hour, or more. He winced and sat back, going over the letter one more time. Someone knew about him. Someone knew that he had magic. Instinct told him to be happy. In fact he felt a swelling in his chest, and it felt a little like pride. He wasn't alone. He wasn't some kind of monster to throw in a dungeon and toss away the key in a lake. He was wanted somewhere. But his mother's voice was there too. It must be a secret, always, Merlin. She had said many times. And that was hard to shake off. Keeping a secret for so long made the keeping a habit. So Merlin felt himself caught between indescribable happiness and a deep, wrenching fear. He was sweating. He was cold. He was hot. He was shaking. He was laughing. But why were there tears in his eyes?

A small rock flew by Merlin and Drest the owl, startling them both.

"Talkin' to the owl, Merlin?"

Merlin whipped around. Trey Marwood was there, behind him. Allen and Edbert too. Big fat grins.

"Is he crying?" Allen or Edbert said it, they were pretty much the same person. The pillocks!

Merlin tried to roll up the parchment with shaking hands, but he dropped it at Trey's feet.

"What's that?" Al-Ed-Llen-Bert pointed at the letter.

Trey snatched it up before Merlin even had the chance.

* * *

"So." The reeve stopped Merlin's story. "You worked in the Selby fields all morning, then went down to the stream for water and firewood. And you were sitting there on the bank when these boys passed by? Is that right?" He stared hard down at Merlin.

"Yes." Merlin swallowed. Trey the Newt fought hard against Merlin's hand, which was keeping the rebellious amphibian in the pocket. "It was just so hot, I had to get some water."

"He's a liar! Godwin, he was talking to an owl and casting spells when we found him!" Al pointed at Merlin, jerking the finger towards the suspected spell-caster with every word. "And then he tried to bewitch us!"

Merlin could not help but glance up at his mother. Her face was painfully white. He cast his eyes back down. "I didn't." He whispered.

"He made Trey disappear!" Edbert chimed in.

"Hush!" Reeve Godwin nodded at his two assistants. "Take them out." He then fixed his gaze on the two boys. "Back to your farm, Edbert and Allen. Back home, with you. I will call for you if I need you."

Ed and Al protested a little, but went fairly quietly.

Once the doors closed behind them, the reeve sighed. "Let us continue with your account of the events, Merlin. Make it brief."

Merlin nodded.

* * *

"What you have here, Mer-Looney?" Trey unfurled the parchment, and jerked it back when Merlin leapt for it. "Oi, I'll only have it a second."

"Give it here!" Merlin jumped for it again.

His arms grabbed from behind by Al and Ed, or Ed and Al, either way.

"What's the bastard got?" One of the other boys asked.

Drest, the white-faced owl, startled and flapped, hopping up onto the branch of a nearby tree.

Trey turned about. "It's got writing on it." He called over his shoulder. "Probably a letter from his da."

Merlin stared at the back of Trey's tunic. There was a tingling, itching heat behind his eyes.

"What's it say?" Allen or Edbert called.

Trey cleared his throat. "It says: 'Sorry Merlin, I mistook your ma for a sheep. Realized my mistake when she popped you out'." A couple laughs rang out from the boys holding Merlin back. Trey aimed a grin back at them. "It's true. It's what it says." A moment later, Trey's hand arced. And the little, now crumpled, piece of parchment plummeted down into the stream below. "Pity he didn't want you, Merlin."

Drest let out a piercing cry and Merlin twisted around, wrenching himself free, and forced his teeth into the flesh of Ed or Al or who the hell cared and bit down. Hard.

Someone screamed.

"Little shite!"

Something slammed into Merlin's cheek. He tasted blood. Was it his? And he was grabbed by the hair. Trey's face was there, snarling at him. And Merlin felt calm. He felt the calmest he'd ever felt in his life. Time moved like a slow flowing river, still and thick. He couldn't hear anything. Merlin reached out to Trey's face. Not with his hands, however, those were pinned behind his back again. He reached out into that ugly face and made it worse. He made it uglier. Merlin made Trey's eyes smaller and blacker. He made Trey's tanned skin slimy. Wet and covered in ooze. And last, Merlin made Trey as small and helpless as Merlin himself now felt.

And Trey was suddenly gone and Merlin was on the ground, breathing in leaf litter and coughing it out again. A small, brown newt wriggled in front of Merlin's face. Trey. Trey the Newt.

"Ugh! What did you do? Where did he go?" Allen screamed, scrambling back. He looked green, almost ill.

Edbert was hitting his friend on the shoulder. "Where is he?" He sobbed. "Where's Trey?"

Merlin reached out and snatched up the newt while he lay there.

A moment later, Ed and Al had tripped and sobbed their way up the footpath and were gone.

Merlin sighed, his heart jumping around and wriggling like the newt in his hand. A couple minutes later he hauled himself to his feet, swaying a little, and looked about for Drest the owl. That pale face still sat in a nearby tree, watching him. Merlin smiled. "You're still here."

If an owl could look disdainful, this one sure did it well.

Merlin smirked and held up the newt by the tail. "Lunch?"

Drest hissed a little and turned his white face away, like turning one's nose up at something particularly disgusting.

"Yeah, neither would I." Merlin took another look at the newt that was once Trey. At least, he thought it was Trey. He hoped it was. And he wouldn't have fed Trey the Newt to the owl. No. He needed to find a way to un-newt-tify Trey.

A moment later, Merlin was left holding a wriggling tail and no newt. No newt at all.

"Oh no."

* * *

"And then they ran away?"

Merlin nodded.

"But where was Trey? Allen and Ed… Ed-" Reeve Godwin frowned. "What's his name?"

"Edbert." Merlin offered.

Godwin nodded and waved a hand towards Merlin. "Yes, Edbert. Allen and Edbert have said that Trey disappeared."

Merlin shrugged. "All I know is that while I was getting water, they started picking on me." He cast his eyes to the clean dirt floor. "I got angry and I'm sorry for that. I bit Allen…or Ed, I can't remember."

One of the reeve's men snickered. The newt fighting in his pocket somehow seemed angrier than before.

"But I didn't do anything to Trey. He was the one picking on me, and the others were holding me. I couldn't do anything." Merlin did his best to shiver a little and keep his eyes lowered. "I couldn't fight back." He paused. "I don't know where Trey went."

An outright lie, but what else could he say? Here, reeve, let me introduce you to Trey Marwood, he's a newt now.

"Yes, yes." Godwin nodded and sat back in his chair. "Let's continue. You were left alone, what did you do next? I assume you went to the millpond."

Merlin had the good sense to blush. "I did. I was sweaty and wanted to wash off. I went to the millpond."

* * *

"Oh no! Trey!" Merlin squawked and fell to the ground.

The newt skittered away towards the stream.

"Trey!" Merlin scrambled after the small creature, hands scrabbling out to catch the newt.

And the chase was on.

In and out of the stream, slipping on wet, mossy stones, Merlin followed the tiny newt. Gods, it was fast!. The stream widened and the newt began to swim away. Merlin splashed out into the water. He lost sight of the small creature.

"Oh no!"

Merlin stuck his head under the water. He couldn't see anything.

"Oh no, oh no!"

Nothing! Trey was gone.

Merlin ducked under the water again. He reached out into the stream. Reached and reached and reached. He wriggled into the small rapids. The water deepened and deepened. Something brushed by him. Cloth. Merlin paid no mind. The stream was deeper and he could follow now. He spotted Trey the newt up ahead, swimming along, like a newt does. Merlin shot forward. Funny. This didn't quite feel right.

He was catching up with the newt now. The water became darker. They must had swum into the millpond. The stream fed into it. Strange. Merlin hadn't needed to come up for air yet.

I think, he felt himself ponder, I think I am a fish.

It didn't matter too much right now because Trey the newt was almost within his grasp. If he had hands. Why didn't Merlin have hands? Or legs. What was going on?

Merlin reached out for the newt. He was so close now. He swam faster and faster. He passed by two pale pillars. The newt was resting by one of the pillars. Merlin reached out, mouth open. There! Got him! The newt wriggled in his grasp. Merlin leapt up and out of the water with a whoop of glee.

He collided with something solid. Flailing legs. There was an earsplitting scream.

And while Merlin spat water and a frantic newt out of his mouth and into his hands, he stared up into the terrified face of Milda the miller's daughter. She was a bit taller than him, being about seven or so seasons older than him. And she was quite naked. And so was he. Where were his clothes?!

He had jumped up, right beneath her, right from between her legs.

Oh…and thank the gods, he had legs now too. And hands. Merlin had missed them.

Milda slapped him. Hard.

* * *

"So you didn't see Milda bathing when you went to bathe yourself?"

"It was an accident, I swear." Merlin shifted where he stood. "I just kinda hopped in, started swimming… and I had my eyes closed. And when I came up to breathe…" He covered his face with his hands. "I didn't know she was there. I'm sorry."

And he was sorry. He really hadn't meant to scare Milda… and see her naked. The memory still reddened his ears.

"I see." Reeve Godwin stood up from his chair. "And then her father brought you here, after lending you some… clothes."

"Mine went missing." Merlin mumbled. Yes, they went missing when he became a fish. "I laid them down and I lost them."

Godwin was watching him closely. "Mmhmm." He nodded. A full minute went by before the reeve spoke again. "Hunith you can take your son home. I will see that Merlin assist the miller for a few days as penance for spying on Milda. And as to Trey," He shrugged. "I'll tell John Marwood his son is missing and everyone, including you, Merlin, will help with the search. He's probably up and gone to Northantone for a few days. Just like last time."

As if to answer to that, Trey the newt wriggled in Merlin's pocket again and he put a hand to it to keep the little creature from escaping again. Who knows what he'd turn into next time if he had to catch the newt again. A cat? That might not be so bad. Cats were quite graceful and elegant. Or a bird. By the by, where was Drest the white-faced owl? Perhaps had flown off by now, Merlin worried, back to the wherever Rowena the Ravenclaw lived. Merlin may never find the school without the owl's help. Though, he may have more important problems going on right now.

Godwin watched as Hunith came forward and laid a hand on her son's shoulder. "Keep him in check, Hunith. He has caused enough trouble in ten seasons to last him a lifetime."

"Yes, thank you, reeve Godwin." Hunith answered. Merlin heard his mother's voice quiver, but her hand was steady on his shoulder. And she steering Merlin out of the meeting hall and back to their home, hand never leaving his shoulder, not once.

* * *

Hours later, when the sun was close to setting, Merlin set the small newt named Trey Marwood down on the forest floor. Around him the calls of other looking for Trey sounded out, echoing in the trees. Torches flashed by every so often like fireflies do. Popping in and out of existence. The little creature tried to scamper away again as soon as it was put down and Merlin grabbed it again.

"I've got to… I've got to figure out how to get you back, to normal, I mean." Merlin murmured. "But I don't know how I did this in the first place."

Almost in response, the newt wriggled a little more wildly in his hands.

"I know, I know." Merlin huffed.

He closed his eyes.

"Trey!" Someone called out.

Yes, Trey, what did he look like?

Another voice, again. "Trey Marwood!"

He was a tall boy, and big.

Sticks cracked and snapped underfoot, people wading through the underbrush.

Brown hair, brown eyes, freckles, tanned skin.

"Trey!" Merlin smelled the pitch of the torches.

There was that crooked smile, with one snaggletooth, and something like food was usually stuck in it. Probably why Trey was constantly picking at his teeth, all day, every day. Shoulders were rounded, he hunched when relaxed, slouched. And the way he said: "Sard off!" when he was pissed. He slurred it and dropped the 'd'. Making it "Sar'off!"

"Trey!"

"I'm here! I'm here!"

Merlin opened his eyes. And there, sitting before him, white-faced and clothes rumpled, gasping, was Trey Marwood. Relief, pure relief, flooded Merlin's body. But also, Trey kept his clothes? How did? What? Merlin had lost his clothes when he was a…a fish? Or whatever? He'd have to figure that one out. But no matter. Trey was back! He'd done it! Thank the gods! Thank everyone! Thank Trey! Merlin launched himself forward and threw his arms about the older boy, hugging him tightly.

"Get off! Get off, you witch!" Trey pushed Merlin away roughly and, scrambling to his feet, sprayed leaf litter everyone and all over Merlin.

Right, time to set the story straight.

"I've found him!" Merlin cried, leaping and latching onto Trey's leg. The older boy kicked but Merlin hung on tightly. "Over here, I've found him!"

A few of the village men, including Trey's father, and the reeve appeared from the surrounding trees. "Thank the gods." John Marwood reached down and helped his son to his feet.

"He-" Trey began, pointing at Merlin.

"Are you alright?" Reeve Godwin asked.

"Merlin-" Trey looked to be close to crying.

He had to turn this around now.

"He was sneaking back into the village from Northantone!" Merlin blurted before Trey could say much more. "He went to go see the baron's daughter. We were all lying for him. Me and Allen and Ed. We all were. I'm sorry." He hung his head and tried to look as remorseful as possible. "Please don't punish him, the baron doesn't know-"

"He's lying!" Trey shrieked, rushing at Merlin. But his father held him back by the arm. "He's lying, you see it?!"

"Well, Trey…" The Reeve eyed the two boys. "What did happen?"

Merlin bit his lip.

Trey, if possible, blanched even more. "He…He turned me into a newt!"

A beat.

And raucous laughter erupted from the men who'd been searching. Some started leaving then and there.

"A newt?" Even the Reeve was chuckling.

Trey looked around at the smiling faces, mouth agape and eyes wide. "I…" He swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing in the stark torchlight. He looked down at the ground then back up at the Reeve. "I got better." He said in a small voice.

And that was that.

Trey's father took his son-turned newt-turned son again back home. And the Reeve dismissed Merlin with a warning that he wasn't to lie for Trey's benefit anymore. Merlin skipped back to his mother's hut.

* * *

He couldn't always take these things so lightly. But nothing like this had happened before. Sure, little strange things happened around him all the time. And most of the people in the village saw him as odd. Or bad luck. Just like an owl out in the daytime. He had to be careful. But it was hard. His mother had told him time and time again to keep a tight grip on his…talents. She had said that they might lock him up for it. Or worse. And of course Merlin was scared of these threats. Of course he tried to be as careful as he could. But it was hard. And this was just another near miss that he'd managed to dodge again. All the events lined up well enough that no one would believe Trey, or his two best friends that were obviously in cahoots with him. But little snitch Merlin, the bullied boy, had no reason to lie about Trey's misdeeds. But there was no telling whether he'd be able to brush off the accusations next time. And next time might be worse.

Merlin thought back to the strange message he'd received from the owl named Drest. The owl that had probably flown back home by now. He wouldn't be able to find the school and he wouldn't be able to leave this wretched village.

Merlin turned a corner and found himself back home. And there, sitting on the woodpile outside, was the white-faced owl, blinking slowly up at him. Merlin reached out, careful to be gentle, and brushed the feathers on the bird's neck. So soft. "You haven't left." He whispered. Drest stared up at him.

"Merlin, is that you?" Hunith called from inside the hut.

"Yes!" Merlin ducked under the doorway and hurried inside. "We found Trey. He was sneaking back from Northantone- Ow!"

Hunith had flown forward and smacked Merlin, hard, on the top of his head with her wooden spoon. "You have gone too far!" She did not yell, but her furious whispers were enough to make Merlin quail a little. "Too far, Merlin! What did you do to that boy, hmm?!"

"Nothing!" Merlin cried.

Another spoon wallop.

He lowered his voice. "Nothing, I didn't do anything."

His mother, tight-lipped, gave him a hard stare then turned back to the fire and stirred the dinner stew, her back to him. "We may have to leave. Go away. Live somewhere else."

Merlin sat down beside her. "Mam, what are you talking about? Godwin said I was free of all charges. You heard him."

"People talk!" Hunith kept her eyes on the stew. "People talk…about me…about you. If anything else, like this, happens…" She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know if I can protect you."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not!" She was on the brink of sobbing.

Merlin's heart twisted in his chest and he wrapped an arm around his mother's shoulders. "Things always turn out okay. They will. I promise, I'll be more careful. I just…lost my temper."

Hunith, eyes shining, turned to him and stared into her son's eyes. She smiled through the tears, sighing. "What did you do to him?"

"I think…" Merlin was choosing his words. "I think I turned him into a little lizard. He was in my pocket when the Reeve was asking me questions. I turned him back, just now."

Merlin's mother raised her eyes upwards and almost laughed, hiccuping. "Really?"

"Yes- Ow!"

Hunith had smacked the back of his head, lightly, but hard enough.

"You're more trouble than you're worth, Merlin." She said it, she said those words, but she drew her son into a deep, tight hug. She rubbed his back, humming. Merlin let his eyes close. She was right. He was trouble. Trouble for everyone.

"Hungry?" Hunith pulled away and stirred the stew again.

"Yes." Merlin wiped his eyes. "Mother?"

"Mmmm?"

"Have you heard of a place where…well, there are people like me, and they…they teach the stuff I do?" He glanced at the doorway, towards where Drest was perched outside. "I found a message today, from people like me. And they have a…what do you call it? A school? Yes, a school for people that do…things."

Hunith wheeled around, two bowls in hand. "I don't think I've heard of such a place." She frowned and handed the bowl to Merlin. "You know, Merlin, there are people who want to hurt you. That message may be a trick to lure you into a trap. Don't pay it any mind."

Merlin blew on his stew to cool it. "I don't think it was a trap."

"Why?"

"The message was tied to the leg of an owl."

"Oh." Hunith stared at Merlin for a moment or so. "That's…odd."

"That's what I thought. The message, well, it's gone. But it said that I was asked to come learn with them and that they may be able to help me, keep me safe, stuff like that. I thought…" Merlin shrugged but he could feel that floating, happy sensation from hours ago starting again. That giddiness. "I thought that I would like to learn. And meet people like me."

"It doesn't sound safe." Hunith set her bowl down on the floor. "How do you know it's not a trap?" She took her son by the shoulders.

"Well," Merlin looked to the doorway of the hut again. "The owl is supposed to take me to the school, or show me the way. So I guess that might be…I don't think that people who hate people like me would train an owl to do that."

"Doesn't matter. You can't go off on your own. You're barely older than ten seasons."

"I'm eleven this summer and I'm almost a man!"

"You're just a boy!" Hunith took Merlin's face in her hands. "And you're not going anywhere with an owl!" And she sighed a moment and looked at the floor. "I can't believe I just said that. Now you're going to stay here, eat your stew, and stop making trouble in the village." She kissed his forehead. "For me, please."

Merlin nodded silently. They ate. The night drew on, the heat of the summer day dying to a cold, damp chill as the stars wheeled overhead.

Hunith's fingers strayed to Merlin's neck. "You're burnt."

"I was out in the sun all day."

"You'll need something for that tomorrow." Hunith got up and rummaged around in her small chest for a minute or so. "Here." She came back with a red kerchief. "Tie it around your neck and it'll keep off the sun." She wrapped it gently around his neck and tied it in the front.

Merlin pulled the scarf so the knot was in the back, looking at the brightly dyed material. 'Why were there tears in his eyes?', he found himself wondering. "Thanks." He swallowed hard.

And his mother smiled at him.

* * *

In the dead of night, once his mother's breathing had changed to deeper, slowing breaths, Merlin crept out of bed. He took a few things here and there, stuffing them in his bag. At the door, Merlin's hands went to the kerchief about his neck, about to untie it and leave it. It was his mother's… But then he dropped his arms to his side. He grabbed his walking stick, knuckles turning white. One last glance at the hut. One last glance at his mother. Merlin slipped out the doorway and into the cool night. He turned and looked to the white-faced owl that sat there.

"Ready?"

The owl lifted it's wings, hopped into the air, then settled on Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin smiled. "Right, let's go."


	2. Order to Chaos

**Chapter 2: Order to Chaos**

* * *

Seven Years Later…

* * *

Merlin would have liked to have said that he was a good and brave man. Or at least, a forgiving one. Too many times he had been tested or tried, and too many times had he proved himself to be less than who he wished to me. He wished to right wrongs. He wished to protect the innocent. He wished to forgive and forget and move on with his life. But if he could do nothing today. If he could not set right this wrong. If he had to sit here and watch this monstrosity take place, then he would certainly never forget. And he did not plan of forgiving either. 'I will do it. I will burn this place to the ground.' He told himself as he watched the axe fall and Thomas James Collins' head rolled in the city square of Camelot.

* * *

This is where it all started.

The spires of that harsh castle pierced through the treeline and upwards into the sky. A violent sight, almost. Banners flew from the highest towers, red and gold and streaming in the wind. From the village of houses and shops that huddled around the castle walls, smoke drifted and rose into the air. With the clouds of smoke surrounding the castle and the red banners against a red sunset, the very city looked fiery and caustic. Did it all sit on some great vent of hell? Or was it hell itself?

Merlin let his pack drop to the grass and sat down right there on the hill above the city. How did it come to this? How did he, Merlin, find himself here of all places? This is where it all started. This was where magic was brought to die. Was that his fate too? A wind picked up and a few pieces of long grass tickled his cheek. Merlin sat there a little longer, watching the ant-like people down in the city move about. He finally picked himself up again, shouldered his pack, and continued on down the road, to the gates of Camelot.

* * *

No, this was definitely hell.

Merlin watched the man dragged through the city square and brought to the platform in the center. He could only just see over the crowd. The King spoke long and self-righteously about the evil that had long plagued this land and how he, through his edicts and efforts, had brought the kingdom from chaos to law and order. The King droned on and on. The herd of people listened, drank in every word.

The man was made to kneel. Chaos to order? His head was pushed down until his neck rested on the chopping block. Order to chaos, more like. The executioner raised his axe.

There were a million and one things that Merlin knew he could do to save the man. But he would not do any of them. He watched the axe rise. And fall. He made himself watch. This was the price he had to pay. Either watch the axe rise and fall, or feel it on your own neck instead. Merlin shuddered.

He would see this place burn.

"There is only one evil in this land, and it is not magic!"

Merlin followed the crowd's stares. An old crone yelled up at the King, shaking and pale.

"It is you! With your hatred and ignorance! You took my son!"

Merlin's eyes flicked back to the body for a moment, lingering on the blood that stained the platform now. Her son. His thoughts rested on his mother, Hunith, and what she would do or say if he were captured and executed. She had said many times, she had said it with the fright in her eyes and the grip of her hand on his shoulder, that for him to be killed this way was her greatest fear. That his secret should be found out, laid bare, and he would be paraded about the streets and his death celebrated. A stinging at the back of his throat and the quick taste of bile. Merlin swallowed hard. Her son. This could be his mother. And he could be that man. That stupid man.

"And I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. And eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son!" The old crone spat her words up to the King. And before any guards could rush forward to seize her, she disappeared in a puff of wind and foul smelling smoke. Merlin wrinkled his nose. It was a little dramatic, but at least she had more sense than her dead son.

Merlin knew that he stood there a long time after the crowd had mostly dispersed. After the body had been taken away. He finally looked up again to the balcony where the King had stood and proclaimed. The red of the banners was so bright and full that when a wind passed through and the cloth waved back and forth it looked like the balcony was on fire. Flames seemed to lick the castle walls.

If only, Merlin wished.

* * *

"Where could I find Gaius, the Court Physician?"

The guard pointed him down a corridor and Merlin thanked him and followed the direction. He found some narrow stairs, a sign pointing down another corridor, and another set of stairs. He followed them all up then pushed through the half open door into a wall of scent. Herbs, green or dry, hung from the stone walls, giving off all manner of odors. Things that bubbled and smoked over a fire emitted vapors and fumes. The smells of this workshop were so thick he could almost swim through it. And so many of the aromas reminded him of his days spent hunched over a cauldron or cataloging potions for… well, wasn't worth remembering now, was it? He sighed. So many familiar things and yet all together it was alien.

Merlin soon noticed he was just standing in the room and had been doing so for some time. He should probably do something. Say something. He shook his head and peered around. No one to be seen. He heard a rustling from above. He looked up. An old man was puttering above on the staircase above, shifting papers, looking through books. Merlin smiled. That must be Gaius.

"Hello?" He tried to get the old physician's attention. Nothing. Must be hard of hearing. "Gaius!"

And of course the old man tripped. And he fell back. And the railing broke.

Merlin swore under his breath before raising his hand and hissing a few words. It was a spell he was working on and it was not quite perfected yet, simply because, as he soon saw, it still did not work as he intended.

The physician's fall was slowed for only a moment and his body hung there, hovering, before the charm began to wear off. The spell sputtered, threatening to drop the old man again. Suspended there, falling in slow motion, must have been a little frightening. The old man was talking nonsense. He was saying something much akin to 'Oh my goodness!' and 'What's going on!?'

But Merlin wasn't listening. "Damn." He muttered. Still needed some work on that spell. But that did not help him now.

Merlin looked around. What to do? What to do? The bed! Just there, in the corner.

Merlin reached out and called it to him. It slid across the stone floor quite loudly, but arrived just below the old man as the charm wore off and he fell. Right into the blankets, bouncing a little. Merlin sighed and let his hand fall. Stupid, but unavoidable. What else could he have done? Hopefully, the old man would not-

"What did you just do?" The physician sat up in the bed, red in the face.

"Uh." Merlin fumbled through his mind for the right spell.

The old man was fighting his way out of the blankets, finally standing up. "Tell me!"

Well, that was a little demanding. And rude, maybe. Merlin just shrugged. "I have no idea what happened." And he had just now remembered the charm he may need to make this problem disappear.

"If-" Gaius looked around the room. "If anyone had seen that!" He hissed and looked up to where the balcony railing above was broken.

He hated this charm. Absolutely hated it. Avoided it like the plague. And no one wanted the plague. The plague was terrible. Maybe he could talk his way out of it. Maybe? Merlin looked up at the broken railing too, trying his best to look surprised as well. "No, ahm, that was, it was nothing to do with me. Strange, right? It was like-"

"I know what it was!"

Merlin's head whipped around. Yes, well, there was no talking himself out of it now. Dread settled in his stomach.

The old man continued. "I just want to know where you learned how to do it!"

Gaius was staring Merlin down. Not a quiver. The old physician was not frightened. He was determined. And though he seemed harmless enough, Merlin could not risk it. If he did, he put himself and his whole mission in jeopardy. And he put Hogwarts in danger too. He was not about to do that again. Merlin opened his mouth.

"Where did you study?!" Gaius demanded.

Merlin sighed. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He answered and raised his hand a little. His fingers twitched.

Gaius frowned. "What?"

"Obliviate!"

* * *

"Oh…" The old man rubbed his eyes then spotted the youth that stood before him. "I'm sorry, I must have, well, no matter. Who are you?"

The black haired boy held out his hand to the physician. "I'm Merlin, Hunith's son." He grinned but let the smile go as soon as they finished shaking hands.

"How nice, um, was I expecting you?" The old man smiled and sat down on one of the many stools in the chamber. "I'm sorry, my memory is not what it once was."

The dark-haired boy with the slightly over-large ears shrugged. "Mother suggested I come and see you, since I was thinking about learning about healing people and stuff."

"Ah, wonderful." The physician reached out and patted the boy's arm. "It is a rewarding profession." He looked the boy up and down. "But you do look so familiar…you must be Hunith's boy, that's why you remind me of someone. Anyway, I am happy to have an apprentice. Goodness knows I need all the help I can get."

Hunith's son nodded and gave that strange quick grin again. "Thank you, you won't regret it. I'll work hard."

"I have no doubt." The old man stood up again. "It just so happens I have an extra room, over here…" And he stopped and frowned suddenly. "How did my bed get here?"

* * *

"Merlin…"

Merlin's eyes snapped open. A ceiling. That ceiling above him. No stars, no storm clouds, no falling snow, no expanse of sky above him. He was finally sleeping under a ceiling again. He sighed. That's right, he was in Camelot, bunking with the Court Physician. The morning sunlight, or at least he hoped it was morning, was falling across his face and he squinted, sitting up. He could hear someone clattering about in the next room. Probably Gaius. He had never met his uncle before but the man seemed to fit all the descriptions that his mother had given him so many years ago. He stretched a little, and immediately regretted it. All his muscles were sore. Absolutely all of them. He let out a soft groan and sat up, blinking and rubbing his face. He could feel the coat of dirt and grit that covered his skin, dust from the road and days of only using a cleaning charm to wash up. He looked about the room. It was cluttered. Odds and ends lay upended or falling over, crates and broken chairs, drying racks of herbs and flowers. Smelled dusty in here.

What had woken him? Gaius?

No. Merlin closed his eyes, tried to think back. No, it was something else. Someone had called his name.

He could not remember now. Probably a dream. He braced himself and started to pull his aching body out of bed. It was as good a time as any to start the day. He had a lot to do. A lot to plan for. He grimaced. He had to figure out how to sneak into Camelot's tombs unseen and out again without anyone the wiser.


	3. Echoes and Shadows

**Chapter 3: Echoes and Shadows**

* * *

That morning, Merlin had run all over the castle and grounds and the village below while delivering remedies that Gaius had prepared with specific instructions for each dosage. Merlin met a couple snobby nobles, a few indifferent merchants, and quite a lot of grateful commoners. It was their more pleasant attitudes that made Merlin want to tarry in the Lower Town, as it was called. But he did not have the time. He needed this chance to examine the castle itself for future reference. The castle was built strong and beautifully with pale beige stones. It spilled onto its grounds and into the city below, which clustered close to the walls and formed a tight-knit space that was absolutely full of people at all times of the day. As Merlin walked along the dusty roads and then into the cool, dim corridors, he found himself mentally noting all the twists and turns and what door led where. The castle was a large structure and could be easy to get lost in, but it was nothing compared to what he usually had to navigate. None of the staircases moved. Thank the gods!

He had caught sight of steps leading down every so often in his explorations, presumably underground, but had not been able to follow them anywhere due to the armored guards that patrolled around the castle. And they usually could be found guarding whatever passageways led down. Some were mostly likely guarding the entrance to the dungeons, Merlin reasoned. But the others, they had to be guarding something else. Maybe the entrance to the catacombs or tombs? He would have to find a way to bypass the soldiers. And soon.

Eventually he had wandered out into what looked like training grounds. The sight of armor and weapons made his heart pound and some sweat broke out on his forehead but he tried to tamp this down. He swallowed hard and joined a small crowd watching some men train. He watched the knives fly at a servant boy, who was running back and forth like a headless chicken, cowering behind the target he carried. The men in armor laughed and laughed. Merlin failed to see the humor. The bastard was terrified.

And the men who were carrying on looked well-groomed and high-born, all circled around a fair-haired noble.

Probably the Prince, Merlin noted.

How do you know?

Well, he hasn't got shit all over him.

Sound logic.

Plus, he looked like a prat. Most Princes were prats, Merlin had learned.

The target that the poor servant was holding flipped out of his hands when he tripped suddenly.

So when the shield rolled to Merlin's feet and put a foot on it while looking up at the young royal, he let himself smile a little and spoke up, since no one else was. "Hey, come on, that's enough."

"What?" The blonde prat asked.

That was a predictable response. Merlin doubted anyone dared speak to the Prince like that.

He picked up the target and held it. "You've had your fun, my friend."

The Prince approached. "Do I know you?"

"I'm Merlin." He held out the heavy target to the Prince. Perhaps this would give the servant boy a chance to go find another chore to do. He didn't deserve to be a human target.

The blonde-haired man grinned in his face, took the target from his hands, and promptly dropped it on the ground. "So, I don't know you."

Well, that was uncalled for. Merlin glanced down at the dropped target, then to the Prince again. "No, you don't, hence my introduction." This wasn't really wise, tangling with the royals. Especially while he was trying to keep a low profile. He should just walk away now. He had tried to give the servant a chance. Seeing those knives fly really had made his blood boil. Why had he even tried to step in-

The Prince answered, with that stupid grin plastered on his face. "I don't really care who you are."

Probably for the best, Merlin reasoned.

"I don't know you, yet you called me 'friend'." The Prince continued.

"That was my mistake."

"Yes, I think so." The Prince was leaning in close to Merlin's face now.

Some sort of death wish kicked in. The Prince was walking away now. Merlin felt the shift. He opened his mouth. His big fat mouth. He knew he had a temper. He knew it. He should just walk away. Trey's rude face dissolving into newt's swam before his eyes. A sick satisfaction bubbled in his stomach. He spoke before he could stop himself.

"Yeah, I could never have a friend who could be such an ass."

"Or I one who could be so stupid." Came the answer.

Well, Merlin had an excuse now. He had just been insulted.

Merlin would have liked to have said that he was the better man and walked away from that petty confrontation. But he did not. The rest of his day was spent reliving the few wonderful moments wherein he completely humiliated Prince Arthur when he summoned a bit of water and made a mud puddle in the middle of the training field without anyone noticing until the Prince had tripped and fell headlong into it. A face full of mud. Brilliant! He slipped away in the confusion after that. At least he hadn't turned this bully into a newt. Though he had been sorely tempted.

* * *

Hours later, and after dinner, Merlin took up the dishes that he and Gaius had been using and began washing them out in the bucket of water that Gaius had set aside. It was when he began trying to think of a way to secretly do a scouring charm and avoid the washing altogether that Gaius spoke from behind him, still sitting at the table.

"How is Hunith, Merlin? Is your mother well?"

Merlin glanced back. The old man had a book before him, turning the pages slowly, but watching him.

Merlin nodded and went back to cleaning. "She's, ah, well. Much the same as ever, you know?"

"I don't."

Well, you never really came and visited, you old git. Merlin frowned, scraping a dish with a little twig Gaius had told him to use earlier. Called it a 'clettering' twig. Merlin called it an inconvenience and disgusting. He supposed it was for 'clettering' the dishes.

But it was true. Gaius, Hunith's only and much older brother, had never come to visit them. Or help, for that matter. Merlin liked the old man well enough, but the fact remained that when he and his mother were starving during his tenth winter, or when Hunith had fallen ill a few years before, or when their home burned down when he was very small and he could barely remember it but he had one clear memory of fire all around and his mother sobbing, Gaius had not been there. Gaius had not even known, or seemed to want to know. Or had even tried. Of course, Merlin did not know that for certain. He and his mother had lived a fair distance away from Camelot, and in another kingdom. But still. Still. It irked him.

But Merlin knew his thoughts were a tad hypocritical. He himself had not seen his mother in person for seven years. But Gaius didn't need to know that.

Merlin set the mostly clean dishes aside. Who cleaned dishes with a twig? He wiped his hands dry on his trousers and faced Gaius. He smiled. "She's fine. Worried about me, I guess."

Gaius took a small sip from the cup before him. "Why?"

"Oh." Merlin took a seat at the table again. The table looked as though it were made for a troll. It was constructed of a thick, dark wood and Merlin doubted that he could move it by himself. The surface was scarred deeply in many places. It looked as though it had seen many years of abuse and had somehow steadfastly put up with it all. He traced a few of gouges there and continued. "I'm away from home for the first time."

This was definitely not the first time.

"I guess she's worried about me out in the big world."

Gaius nodded. "Grown too big for the village life?"

"Just about." Merlin smiled a little and traced a particularly deep cut in the table. Straight and long. Must have been made with a knife. Did this table double as a cutting board?

"Well, I'm happy to guide you to wherever you want to be in life, Merlin." The old man took Merlin's hand away from the scarred table and held it a moment. "I was once in your shoes. I was young and ready to be rid of the provincial life." Gaius rose from the table. "I remember finally leaving my village behind and taking a new name with my master, Galen. It was exhilarating." He went to the small fireplace and stoked the flames, then turned back to Merlin. "Best decision I ever made."

I've already had a master and it did not end well, Merlin reminded himself. But he smiled anyway at the old physician. "You changed your name? It's not Gaius? I thought that's what mother-"

"Oh, Hunith promised to call me by my new name once I decided to go." Gaius sat down again opposite Merlin. The light of the fire found its way into the old man's eyes and they almost twinkled as he spoke. "She wanted me to go; she knew it would make me happiest to be able to do something worthwhile with my life. Not that farming isn't worthwhile," He nodded at Merlin. "But I wanted something more than a plot of land and a family. I wanted to serve." The physician sighed and stared into the fire now. A soft silence fell over the chamber with only the crackling of the fire breaking it every so often.

Merlin eventually spoke again. "Why did you not take my mother with you? When you left home?"

"I couldn't." Gaius' smile faded and his eyes focused on Merlin again. "She was only a child, maybe six summers at the most. And father became crippled a few years after I left." Gaius turned a page of the book that was still laid out before him, obviously not reading it, but gazing at its contents. "I asked her, when she was older, to come live in Camelot. But she did not. She stayed to take care of father. He was old by then. Very old. Then he passed." Gaius sighed. "Then she had you." He looked back up at Merlin. "I know you've made her happy."

Merlin met the physician's eyes and nodded before lowering them back to the table. He watched the firelight play across the gouges and scars in the old table. A moment or so passed before Merlin swallowed hard and pushed down that lump in his throat and spoke again. "What was your name…you know, before all this?"

"Mirthin."

Merlin frowned. "Sounds a bit like my name."

"Honestly?" And Gaius chuckled a little. "I think Hunith named you after me. Mirthin is more traditional in Essetir, 'Merlin' is something like a nickname of it."

He had not known that. How could he have not known that? Merlin grinned, looking over at his namesake. "Really?"

"Yes."

Merlin laughed. His mother had never told him that she named her only son after the brother she obviously loved so much. Merlin felt his heart swell a little and a rush of warm pride flew from his chest and filled his body. That little connection to this man made him feel more at home. A little safer.

Gaius laughed again with him. He reached over and patted Merlin's shoulder. "Now tell me, my boy, why do you wish to learn medicine? Did your mother encourage you to do this?"

Truth be told, and it was not going to be any time soon, Merlin did not want to learn medicine. In fact, he hoped he wouldn't be in Camelot long enough to learn much of anything. This needed to be a simple in-and-out and never-come-back-here-again mission. For everyone's sake. Merlin felt his smile starting to slip but he shrugged and answered as best as he could. It was hard to keep the truth from tumbling out.

"It's useful." His mind wandered back to when it would have been useful for him to know how to heal someone. A number of choice occasions flashed through his mind. He winced. "Um…" Words weren't working. He cleared his throat. "There were a few times…friends…I don't want to sit and be useless when I could be helping people." If he had been quicker, smarter, more powerful, he could have saved them.

"I understand."

Merlin realized he was staring at the scarred table again. He looked up. Gaius was watching him, almost smiling. It was something like a half-smile, eyes soft and kind. Merlin nodded silently. Stupid. Stupid to share that.

"That's a noble thing to do, Merlin."

Merlin winced at that too.

"I know that you will learn a lot with an attitude like that." Gaius continued, speaking around a yawn. "Now," Gaius stood up from the table again. "Let us get to bed while it is still night."

Merlin rose too and retreated to the dusty backroom where his bed sat. He lay down in it. He felt like there was some kind of serpent, coiled around his chest and stomach, and just squeezing and squeezing. Crushing the breath from him, tangling his insides. It felt like guilt. It felt horrible.

* * *

"Merlin…"

He had been waiting for this.

Merlin sat bolt upright in bed, staring hard into the darkness of the room. Nothing. He could see nothing at all. Merlin strained his ears. Nothing. He could hear nothing. Damn!

"Merlin…"

There it was again! Was he going insane? Merlin hopped out of bed, hands shaking as he whispered and a small crackle of blue flames sprouted in the palm of his hand. He spun around, searching the room, holding the flames out as light. Nothing again! He knew now that he had heard something. He had! Something had said his name. Someone.

He cupped both his hands around the flames now, using his fingers to guard the light. Whatever was calling to him was not worth the risk of being discovered carrying cold fire and subsequently being burned at stake with some conversely very hot fire. Merlin walked about, back and forth, looking in each corner of the room.

He walked right into an old bench. Knocked it over.

Merlin bit back a curse and clutched at his little toe. It was fine. Just bruised. He hopped a little.

The search was fruitless. There was no one here in the room.

But who, or what, was calling to him?

Merlin sat back down on the bed but did not lay down. No. He sat up. He sat up and waited. He would get to the bottom of this.

A few hours later, dawn broke. Still nothing.

* * *

"Merlin, I need you to take a preparation to Lady Helen. She needs it for her voice."

Merlin started up from the book of anatomy he had been reading, blinking hard.

Gaius had handed the book to him that morning when he'd stumbled out of bed and he had been slogging through the longwinded descriptions in Latin of various ailments and maladies that afflicted the body. It wasn't the Latin particularly that was giving him pause, in fact he was fairly confident in his Latin, but it was the fact that every time he turned a page and came across a new injury or sickness, he'd take a moment to recall what spells or potions would help heal it.

That minor cut or bruise would be clear up just fine with the Episkey spell. Those boils just needed a little of that boil-cure potion he had seen used a few years ago. The Ferula spell would absolutely prevent that utterly disgusting abscess caused by a severely broken bone. Plus a little of that potion that replenishes blood might help too, if the fracture was breaking the skin. And of course, that general antidote potion that he had whipped up hundreds of times would do well against the bite of an adder.

Merlin rested his chin in his hand and looked up at the royal physician. How did these people get on so well without magic? He could not imagine how frightening it must be to get a little cut or a cold and have to wonder if you will survive it. And that this grey-haired man might be the one thing standing between you and death. It was admirable. He smiled a little. He supposed he'd try learn a little while he was here about how they coped with that fear.

"Lady Helen?" He asked and cleared his throat, noticing how thirsty he was. Just how long had he been sitting here, reading this? And the fairly sleepless night before hadn't helped things either. He was exhausted.

Gaius set a small bottle of yellow sludge on the table in front of him, the stopper fastened with a little piece of cloth and twine. "The Lady who sings that Uther invited to the feast next evening."

This feast again? What exactly was so special about this feast? Merlin nodded and stood slowly before grabbing the bottle. "Which chamber is hers?"

Gaius frowned. "It's uh-…" And he seemed to think a moment or two. "Do you know once the upper walkway, it's like a balcony but a corridor?"

"Yeah."

"It is just across that and to your left." The physician nodded.

Merlin walked to the door. "Just hand this to her, no instructions?"

"The Lady knows what to do." Gaius had already turned about, fiddling with something that bubbled on his work table. And he waved a hand at Merlin. "Off you go."

Merlin hesitated. "Gaius?"

"Yes?"

The King had declared it in the town square after the head of a wizard rolled. The people had been talking about it down in the Lower Town and in the corridors of Camelot. But Merlin wondered if Gaius, who had obviously been in Camelot for a while, knew anything more about the history behind this particular feast. Maybe some details that the king would not mention or the commoners did not know? He needed a little more information.

Merlin tried to sound as casual as possible. "What is the… Well, the feast for?"

"Hmm?" Maybe the physician hadn't quite heard him.

Merlin stepped back to the table where the book of anatomy was still open. "The feast, what is it for?"

"Oh."

Merlin knew that his uncle had heard him this time even though the old man did not turn around. But he was not working on his remedy. His hands were still. His mother had always done the same thing when he asked uncomfortable questions back home.

Gaius stood there, quite still and silent for a minute or so before speaking again. "It is a feast to celebrate the beginning of the magical purge."

Yes, yes, he knew that. Everyone knew that. Merlin tried again. "Back home we- Well, I don't know a lot about the history of Camelot."

"Sit down."

Merlin sat down at the table and closed the book he had been reading before.

Gaius walked back to the table where Merlin now sat and sighed softly while standing there, table in between them. "Not long after Uther became king he decreed that all magic was illegal and began the Purge. That was about twenty years ago. Other kingdoms have since followed his example."

Yes, just in time for my birth. How lucky for me, Merlin thought dully. He said nothing.

Gaius continued. "Tomorrow will mark the twenty year anniversary that King Uther imprisoned a dragon deep in a cave underneath Camelot, as an example to others."

When the King had said that just after the execution, Merlin had set that thought aside and had eventually forgotten it. That was ridiculous! Absolutely barmy! Why would locking up a dragon stop anything? That was akin to locking up a single hound because there were a few hunters in your woods, poaching your harts. Not only was the King dangerous because of his hate, he was dangerous because his hate was blind.

"A dragon?" He asked, making sure he had heard right, because maybe the word 'dragon' was the name of some great witch or wizard, like a title? "A real dragon?"

"Yes." Gaius nodded slowly. The old man looked older, the lines in his face were deeper and his shoulders were hunched. "The Great Dragon."

"Wow." Oh, so this 'dragon' was a 'great' one. Interesting. Merlin thought a moment and opened his mouth.

"Deliver that to Lady Helen, please, she mustn't be kept waiting." Gaius leaned on the back of a chair, watching Merlin, an eyebrow raised.

Merlin closed his mouth. Was the old man suspicious? Why would he be suspicious? Merlin got up, however. "Right." He grinned. "Sorry." And hurried out of the physician's chambers.

Minutes later he was wandering through the halls of Camelot, crossing the balcony corridor, and turning left, and finding the lavish guest chambers that had been provided to Lady Helen during her visit. The door was cracked. Merlin pushed on through and entered the chamber. Many fine silks and trinkets were scattered about the place. Warm in here, Merlin reflected, less so than Gaius' spare room. He set the remedy on the closest table and-

That straw doll looked odd.

He picked it up. It had a weight to it that curdled what was in Merlin's stomach. A wave of nausea hit him. Something was wrong. He looked to the small table again. Nothing looked out of place. Everything looked normal. A mirror, some flowers, a brush for hair, everything looked like something that a woman would have in her chamber. But why this straw doll? Where had he seen something like this before? Merlin thought back. He set down the doll.

And then he noticed it. The book. He pushed back the bit of fabric covering it and pulled out the most haphazard book of magic he had ever seen. The cover was ornate, made of leather and small gems, and the whole thing was tied together with some twine. And the twine was barely holding it all together at that. Merlin untied the twine and the book fell open in his hands. Spells and potions and many more practices spilled out from the messy pages. None of it was in any particular order and all of it was of highly dubious quality. He spotted incorrect spellings here and there and many poorly described incantations. He had seen first year writings that were better than this.

"What are you doing in here?"

An old woman stood behind him, he could see her in the mirror. Merlin whirled around. But beautiful woman stood there, clothed in a violet gown. Lady Helen probably, he thought dimly, as the rest of his mind panicked. You idiot. You bloody idiot!

"Uh- I, well- I mean that-"

The woman came forward in the blink of an eye.

Merlin couldn't believe it. He blinked, and she was beside him.

She took hold of his arm. The nausea returned full-force and suddenly the room began to spin. This was wrong. This was very wrong!

"Little fool!" She hissed.

Merlin pushed back. Pushed as hard as he could, a disarming spell in his thoughts. And the weak draining magic she had attacked him with fell away. Lady Helen was forced to take a few steps back. Both of them were panting. Merlin struggled to catch his breath and leaned on the table there. The Lady then shouted. Again and again. Something about guards. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

* * *

RESEARCH NOTES

1.) The name "Merlin" comes from the Welsh name "Myrddin". So when it came time to give Gaius a name that would be similar to in origin to "Hunith", I gave him "Mirthin", which is a rough (very rough!) anglicization of "Myrddin", since the 'dd' in Welsh sounds similar to our English 'th'. For reference, "Hunith" is an anglicization of the Welsh name "Hunydd". So you see my logic there. I thought it was a nice nod to all the research into older legends I had been doing recently. Merlin, as we know the character today, was partially based on a semi-legendary prophet and wild man named Myrddin Wyllt, among other people. It's interesting.


	4. Call of the Void

**Chapter 4: Call of the Void**

* * *

Merlin would have liked to have said that this was not the worst thing that had happened to him. In fact, as misfortunes went, this was probably one of the easier problems that he had to face. Until he knew for certain that he was charged with witchcraft, he would sit in here and pretend like he was a good little muggle boy in order to keep his cover intact. And then, if he was charged, he would blast apart this godforsaken prison and set Camelot on fire. If he was charged, of course. Although, he had just been accused by a practicing witch of witchcraft and was now held in a dungeon of the most notorious killer of witches and wizards of all time. This was pretty unfortunate. And if this was one of the better misfortunes he had experienced, that said something rather sinister about some of the past disasters that he had extricated himself from.

The cell that he had been thrown into wasn't so bad. There was straw on the floor and a nice crosswind that brought fresh air in every so often. He had lived in dungeons worse than this. He had lost track of how many hours he had been down here, however. He had probably spent the first few sitting in a corner on the brink of bawling his eyes out. It was embarrassing to look back on it now, but he had been terrified.

When Lady Helen, or the witch, or whoever she was had figured out her spells wouldn't work on him, she had called for the guards and accused him of trying to put a spell on her, as evidenced by the book of magic he had been holding and the straw doll nearby. It looked bad. It looked very bad. Maybe he should have just let her kill him rather than disarming her. He now faced a much more painful death. By pyre or by beheading, or maybe by something worse. His imagination could run wild with it.

So Lady Helen was a witch. Odd, to be sure. Merlin didn't quite know what to think of it himself. He had not really been alone long enough in her presence to figure out what was going on. Something about the mirror was off, maybe. Or not. He was not sure. He had seen an old woman first then the Lady Helen second. That kind of disconnect would point to some sort of concealing magic. Perhaps someone masquerading at Lady Helen? There was no way to tell while he was stuck down in this dungeon. Besides, was it really his business what a witch was doing in Camelot? Would he really be wrong to just forget he had seen anything and allow a witch to roam free in Camelot? As if he would betray one of his own kind!

But still, something felt wrong about the whole matter.

But Merlin had larger issues to deal with at the moment, namely, his imprisonment.

If I am convicted of witchcraft, and I hope to Herpo that I am not, I will have to flee and leave my mission behind, he reminded himself.

Merlin settled on the floor, trying to find a more comfortable position, and his handcuffs clanked gently as he moved. He would not have the leisure or resources to plan out a stealthy approach. If he was convicted, he would have to break into the catacombs and then into the tombs grab what he could find and flee. And that was assuming that what he had come for was still buried down there. What if it was no longer there? What if it had been moved?

Merlin pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. And if he did have to flee, where would he go? Where would he be safe? Where would he be welcome? His list of safe hiding places had grown pitifully small from one, to none. He could not go back home to Ealdor in Essetir; his mother would not recognize him and he would be putting her in danger again. And he definitely could not go back to Hogwarts. Ever. That door was closed.

He lay down in the largest handful of straw that he could find on the stone floor and tried to find a position where his spine wasn't bisected by a stone. Just thinking about Hogwarts made his chest ache. He closed his eyes. Tried to relax. Tried to stay calm. Where was he going to go? Where would he be safe? Merlin felt his eyes grow wet. He fell asleep.

* * *

"Merlin…"

His eyes snapped open. To hell with this voice again!

Merlin scrambled to his feet, handcuffs clanking, and whirled around in his dark cell.

He must have drifted off. He must have been asleep.

Why does this dream keep coming to him?

Merlin strained his ears. Nothing. Again, he could hear nothing.

By the gods!

He sighed and hung his head. He may very well be going insane.

He was hearing voices. He was accused of witchcraft by a witch. And he had walked willingly into Camelot. Camelot! The name meant certain death for a wizard or witch. He must be insane. He must. Why did he ever think that this was a good idea? Why-

"Merlin…"

There it was again. But from where? Where!?

Merlin crouched and pressed his ear to the rough stones of the floor, a piece of straw tickling his neck.

"Merlin…"

Aha! It was coming from beneath!

But who-

* * *

"Merlin!"

Merlin scrambled to his feet and spun around.

The door to his cell was open and Gaius stood there with a guard beside him.

Before Merlin's mind could come up with any tragic reason that Gaius might be here to see him, the physician spoke.

"I've talked with Uther and he understands that it was all just a misunderstanding." There was a half smile on the old man's face.

"A what?" Merlin felt himself relax a little, but not completely.

"You are to go free into my care, and to not make any more trouble for Camelot's honored guests." And Gaius nodded at the guard, who came forward to unlock Merlin's handcuffs.

Merlin held out his hands and rubbed his wrists once the heavy metal cuffs had been removed. The guard then decided it was his duty to wrap a hand around Merlin's thin shoulder and shove him out of the cell. Merlin stumbled and Gaius caught him.

"Sorry." Merlin muttered and steadied himself, but Gaius's hand remained on his arm. Merlin let it stay there as the old man led him out of the dungeons and into the castle corridors.

"No matter." The physician replied. "No matter."

The few torches hung on the walls that were allowed to burn this late at night sputtered and hissed, creating such strange echoes that Merlin kept thinking that he heard his name being called, again and again. Or was it the voice from earlier? He could not quite make it out. He opened and closed his eyes, shaking his head as though that might clear it a little.

"Gaius." Merlin whispered. "What did you say, to get me out?"

What could Gaius have possibly said that would have convinced the half-crazed witch-killer that a lowly serving boy accused of magic by a highborn lady was actually innocent? What kind of silver-tongue did he have? And how could Merlin possibly learn to be as persuasive?

"Not much." Gaius murmured as they walked and still gently held Merlin by the arm. They passed a guard and Gaius was silent as they did so. He eventually spoke again. "I explained to the King that I was very aware of, and could vouch for, your excellent character and that some mistake must have been made."

Gods. Gaius had stuck his neck out for him, the nephew he had only just met a few days ago. Gaius was either a very kind and loving man, or a very stupid one. But judging by the way his mother had named her only son after her older brother, Merlin felt that it was probably the former option. Even though this was not the first time that Merlin had bene put in this position; accused of witchcraft or something like that. It had become a little familiar at this point. But still, it had frightened the wits out of him. So he was grateful for Gaius' help. Very grateful.

"And?" Merlin prompted.

"And, that you were my bless'd nephew and that he owed me a favor after all these years of service." He grumbled softly. "And," The old man continued, letting Merlin enter the staircase first that led to physician's chambers. "I confiscated the tome of magic that you accidentally picked up."

The way Gaius stressed the word 'accidentally' made Merlin turn his head as he opened the heavy wooden door. What had he meant by that?

The physician walked into his chambers as Merlin held the door. "So by the King's orders, I am to investigate it and determine how it came to be in Camelot and in the Lady Helen's chambers."

Well, it's her bloody book, innit?! Merlin wanted to shout. But he did not.

Merlin frowned as he walked over to the small fireplace and got the small, dying fire going again. It was cold in these chambers and it would be colder in his little storage room bedroom if he did not get the fire hot enough. "You think…do you think it was put there?"

"Probably." Behind him, he heard Gaius sit down at his work table and sigh. "Something like that." Something heavy thumped on the table: the book, most likely

Merlin turned around. The old man was leaving something out, something unsaid in his words. Hiding something. Merlin could taste it.

Merlin was not trying to give away the Lady's persuasion. If someone had asked him that, he would have said definitely not. Absolutely not. Why would he betray his own kind? Why indeed? But there had been something off about her. Something wrong. He had seen something in the mirror, the Lady's true form perhaps, which pointed to some sinister motivation for being in Camelot. Why hide yourself unless you are simply there to cause trouble? Besides, that was exactly what Merlin planned on doing…

And while Merlin held no love for the King, he did not wish for bloodshed. Not now, anyway. It wasn't like he could go talk to her reasonably about it, determine if she was a threat; she would probably call the guards on him again. No, he needed for Camelot to remain as it was so he could complete his mission as secretly as possible. And if removing the supposed Lady Helen would ensure his own success, well… it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Merlin took a deep breath.

"Or maybe…" Did he dare? "You think it belongs to Lady Helen?" He dared.

At Merlin's words, Gaius looked up sharply from the pages that he was perusing. "You're the one that found it, Merlin, what do you think?" Merlin noticed that the old man closed the book as he spoke.

Is this a trick question? Buggered if I know.

Merlin stood up from his squat by the crackling fire and brushed some stray straw off his shirt. "I dunno." He shrugged.

He did know. But that did not matter. What mattered here was keeping his head on his shoulders.

So he tried to deflect, sent the topic back towards Gaius and away from him. "Have you seen anything like it before?"

The old physician squinted at him in the dim light for a minute longer before looking down at the closed book again. "Of course I have." He sighed. "I have dealt with many tomes like this in my time, and others have been sent to the pyre for less. You're lucky." His words were bitter.

Merlin sat down, opposite his uncle, and looked down at the book. "I had no clue what it was when I saw it. It just looked interesting." He reached out to touch that worn and tattered cover again, covered in those strange gems. They were shimmering in the firelight now.

Gaius smacked away his hand and moved the book. "A dangerous interest."

Merlin rubbed his hand. "Sorry." It was true, he really needn't have another look. It was not as though the book was particularly well-researched. The brief glimpse Merlin had earlier told him it was full of half-finished recipes and vague incantations for some low-level dark magic. Nothing revolutionary. Nothing new.

"No, it's natural for you to be curious." Gaius sighed. "You have grown up away from, well, from all this." He gestured to the room around them. "You have not seen."

"Seen what?"

Gaius' gaze was on the book, but now, without raising his head, he looked up at Merlin from beneath his crooked brows. "How dangerous the use of magic is."

Merlin snorted. "Really?"

Magic was a tool. Only dangerous when used improperly. Or in some cases, very properly.

"Yes." Gaius did not break his stare. "Merlin, you must understand, Ealdor was a bit more…lax, regarding magic. But here," Gaius shook his head. "Uther banned all such work twenty years ago. It is very dangerous to even be slightly associated with magic. You must be careful."

Ah, Gaius meant dangerous to those who use magic.

Merlin nodded silently. He knew that well. Too well, sometimes. Gaius had probably been around Camelot and King Uther twenty years ago.

Merlin thought a moment. "Why did Uther ban magic?"

Gaius sat back in his chair and looked to the fire. "People used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything back then, even the dragons."

Dragons? Good lord. Merlin had heard about muggles disliking the beasts. They were large, dangerous, and difficult to live alongside. But they were innocent beasts all the same. Only guilty of hunting for food and defending themselves. But to systematically destroy beasts simply because you dislike them. That was low.

"What?" Hopefully whatever breeds that were native here had not been wiped out completely. "All of them?"

Gaius answered slowly. "There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it." His uncle rocked back in the chair a moment, balancing it on two legs, then let it back onto the ground with a loud tap. He looked to Merlin. Merlin met the eyes of his uncle.

Did he know? Merlin swallowed hard. The look that the old physician was giving him was narrow and almost hostile, one brow crooked, eyes were mere slits that the firelight from across the room fell upon and made shimmer like dark stones. It looked as though he knew. But maybe that was Merlin's own guilt, making him see things that were not there.

Merlin looked away. Looked to the book. "I did not know it would be such a, well, such a bad thing."

"That's what I explained to the King." Gaius sighed and his hands came into view, tugging the book away.

Merlin looked up, the old man was wrapping the book in a dirty white cloth, wrapping it tightly.

Gaius continued. "I told him that you had grown up away from all this, that it was the only reason you could have thought it was acceptable to touch this…thing."

Merlin nodded. "Thank you."

Gaius smiled and turned away. "I will destroy this safely tomorrow, but for now, we should sleep. It is very early morning already."

Merlin rubbed his eyes. He felt the late hour weighing heavily on his shoulders. "Right, yeah, goodnight." And due to the dimness of the chamber, since the only light was coming from the little fire in the hearth, he felt his way to his little room in the back.

Behind him he heard Gaius answer. "Goodnight, Merlin."

* * *

Merlin felt he had been asleep all of five minutes before he found himself awake again. Was it already time to wake and start the next day's chores? He rolled over and buried his face in the cool side of his pillow. How dreadful. He would be very happy to just sleep the day away. Then he could just-

"Merlin..."

Then he could just sit bolt upright in bed and wonder what the Herpo that was. Merlin froze and listened, ears straining into the silence. It must still be too early for waking, there was not a sound around him. No stirring of Gaius in the next room. No soft steps of servants that began running about Camelot every morning well before the sun rose. No, still too early-

"Merlin..."

Merlin threw back his blanket and quickly stuffed his feet into his boots. That's it! He was getting to the bottom of this nonsense. Someone was definitely calling his name, and had been for days, and he was going to find out who. Or else he was going crazy.

Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

"Merlin..."

No, definitely not going crazy. He had heard that. Clear as a bell. He didn't bother shrugging on a proper tunic and instead walked to his door in his sleeping shirt.

Merlin took a breath and put a hand to his door. He hoped this would work. He muttered a few words and waited a moment or two, counting the seconds softly.

This had better work.

Merlin waited a moment more then slowly opened his door. He felt the tell-tale creak of the hinges. Merlin stopped, holding his breath. He listened hard and moved the door again, as a test. He felt the creak. But he did not hear it.

Merlin slowly smiled and slid out of his small room and began to sneak across the physician's chambers. Time to see if his spell covered the rest of the room. He danced around the work tables and spindly stools and lopsided chairs that littered the space. He finally reached the door that led outside to the rest of the castle.

Merlin put his hand to the latch there. Moment of truth.

Holding his breath again, Merlin slowly lifted the heavy latch. Not a sound. He grinned. Opened the door. Lost his grip. The latch banged down and the door hit a nearby chair. Which then fell over with a clatter.

Merlin winced.

No, it seemed that his sound-dampening spell had not extended across the room from where he originally cast it. It was so much more difficult to aim spells without a wand, and besides, he had never really been very good that charm to begin with. Oh well.

Softly swearing under his breath, he looked back to Gaius' bedroom. Maybe he heard something. Maybe not. No reason to stay behind and be caught. Merlin slid outside and closed the door as quietly as he could. As he did so, he heard the voice again.

"Merlin..."

I'm coming, I'm coming.

Who the hell was calling out to him? No one with good intentions, surely.

Merlin sighed and pricked up his ears and began following the voice as best as he could. He wandered the hallways of the castle. No matter where he went, it always seemed to be coming from below. Merlin finally followed it to a sloping corridor. It was coming from beyond where the torchlight reached. Merlin stopped just short and stayed there, pressing his body to the wall, and listening to the guards playing dice just a few steps away.

Had to do something. Something to sneak past.

Merlin leaned out from around the corner, eyed the dice, and forced them to fly away. They clicked across the stone floor.

"Damn!" One of the guards swore.

They both got up and began looking for the runaway dice.

Merlin took his chance, dashed past, and slipped down the dark corridor. As he went, he focused on his hand and a small crackle of blue flames sprang up within his fingers. Using this blue light, he navigated the darkness.

After an eternity of walking, it seemed like the corridor would never end. He was still going down. Some of the stones were slick with damp and slime. The air was cooler down here. Merlin saw a bend in the way ahead. He frowned and quickly strode around it.

A rush of air and he suddenly became aware that he was standing at the end of a precipice. The narrow corridor had opened up quite violently and he was now standing in an enormous cavern. How large, Merlin could not tell, since his small flames did not give off enough light for that. But judging by now open it felt, how his steps no longer echoed off close walls, it was large indeed.

Merlin looked around. Nothing yet. No owner of the voice.

"Merlin..."

It was much louder now. Merlin could feel the voice rumble through his chest and his heart raced in response. He took a breath.

"Where are you?" He spoke into the darkness.

A rush of wind.

The flames in his hand sputtered.

"I'm here!"

Merlin stumbled back as something rushed past, something from below. It flew. He had caught a glimpse of bright eyes and talons and scales. But that couldn't be right, surely...

And then, the ground shaking a little with the landing, settled a dragon. And dragon sat there before him, and actually spoke.

"How small you are for such a great destiny." It rumbled.

Merlin felt the word thrum through him. But he just barely noticed. All he could really focus on was the fact that a dragon was talking to him. Actually talking. It was like waking up one morning and seeing a passing horse, who then proceeded to talk with you about the weather. A talking dragon!

"Small?" Merlin choked out.

"Hmm." The large beast hummed. "This is not quite how I imagined our meeting." It spoke slow and careful, but that did not matter because it was a bloody talking dragon!

Merlin opened and closed his mouth a few times before he found his voice again. "Uh-...How do you know me?" He took a few precautionary steps back; he had seen dragons before, and they were quick. Well, this obviously wasn't a real dragon, he wasn't sure what this was but it wasn't like any dragon he had ever seen. But better safe than sorry.

"Do not fall into the belief that anything you do will ever be inconspicuous or small, Merlin." The talking beast was aiming a direct stare down at Merlin now. "Your gift was given to you for a reason."

Gift? What gift?

Merlin frowned and let the flames in his hand spring a little higher. "Don't really know what you are talking about."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't." Merlin took a step back. "You must have the wrong person."

The great beast lowered its head a little, closer to Merlin's level, and rumbled loudly. Its words echoed into the large cavern. "Merlin, son of Hunith, fatherless, homeless, and now, friendless. Does that description do you justice, or shall I elaborate, young wizard?"

Merlin felt all the color drain from his face. How?

"Now do I have your attention?" The creature purred.

Merlin was not sure what he was mixed up in, but it wasn't good. And he was now more certain of something than he had ever been in his life: Camelot had more magic and strange goings on within its walls than Hogwarts ever did!

Merlin spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm listening."


	5. Chains of Destiny

**Chapter 5: Chains of Destiny**

* * *

"My what?!" Merlin almost let his hand fall, but he would have extinguished the blue flames there.

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion. He faces many threats, however, threats that he cannot hope to overcome… Without you, of course. It is your destiny." The talking dragon before him repeated. Though this was the third time Merlin had asked it to repeat itself.

"This is ridiculous." Merlin felt his legs wobble and give out as he sat down on the stony ground, hard. "Utterly ridiculous. A talking dragon. Destinies. I must be dreaming, or mad." Or both.

"Why do you think you were given the gift of powerful magic, young wizard?" And the creature crouched a little lower so as to be level with Merlin's eyes as he sat on the ground. He could heard the beast's thick skin creak, the pebbles under its talons grating. Feel the breath on his face.

Merlin laughed a little. "I wasn't given anything. I was born like this. It's just like being able to touch your tongue to your nose or you can hold your breath a little longer than everyone else. It's nothing, just a talent. Other people have it, lots of people. And you're crazy." He pointed at the beast. "How long have you been locked up in here anyway?" Merlin had, of course, noticed the shackles that were fastened to the dragon's feet, holding it here. Some kind of prisoner.

It rumbled and growled out words, words as rough as stone. "You were able to do wandless, wordless, intentional magic since you were an infant. Who convinced you that this gift is normal?"

Merlin rubbed his chest a little where his heart was racing. Could feel it under his ribs, pounding. "How can you possibly know all this? Are you some sort of seer?"

It rumbled. "Perhaps." The beast stood up again and stretched its wings and Merlin felt a gust of air flow over him.

"Well, I don't believe in seers." Merlin stood up, feeling a little more stable than before. "Never met one, not a good one anyway. So what are you?"

The eyes narrowed, two golden slits. "Curious."

"As am I." Merlin retorted.

A pause, the dragon stared at him for a while, with Merlin returning the gaze. Finally, it spoke again. "You are trained, yes? Who was your master? And where is your wand? Or your staff?"

Two blows to his heart, two beats skipped, Merlin felt them. Felt them keenly. Deep breath. Just breathe. Merlin swallowed hard and smiled. "Bring a wand in Camelot? Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Someone must have taught you."

"He's gone now."

"I can see that."

"What else can you see?"

Another pause. Merlin could hear the creature's breathing. In and out. In and out. In and… "You're frightened." It pronounced.

"I'm standing in front of a talking dragon who's been waffling on about destiny." Merlin let the little ball of blue flames that he had been cradling slip into the air and hover there. He crossed his arms. "Of course I'm frightened. I'm frightened that one of us is mad... Or maybe we both are."

"Yet, you are still here. Standing before me." The dragon growled a little and it's teeth gleamed in the blue light. "Perhaps you believe what I say?"

"How long have you been here?" Merlin asked.  
"Many years."  
"What do you know of Camelot?"

"Many things."  
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Well, I am looking for a tomb. One that hasn't been opened in many years."

"There are many of those. Camelot is built upon 'Those that came before'."

Those that came before. The old ways. Merlin nodded. Good, good. "Where?"

"Deeper than my prison, young wizard. Very deep. But-..." And the creature seemed to slide forward, closer to Merlin. Breathing upon his little blue flames and they shuddered from the gust. "Why would you believe what I say now, if you did not believe what I have told you of your destiny. Your destiny to help Arthur restore Albion? No one can escape destiny."

"Oh, watch me." Merlin snatched his little blue flames away from the dragon's mouth. "Besides, I think you've got the wrong Arthur. This one seems like a real bastard."

"Maybe it's your destiny to change that."

Merlin huffed, almost chuckling at the thought. "I can do magic, but not miracles." And he took a few steps back, eyeing the length of the large chains that held the beast back. "What's your destiny, I wonder? Why are you a prisoner here?"

"Camelot is where magic meets its end, ergo…" And the dragon's wings lifted a little, almost gesturing to itself, head slightly bowed.

Merlin nodded. Though, and a sobering thought came to him, if Camelot was where magic dies, then why the hell was he here?

Merlin sighed. It was such a small thing, when one thought about it, what he was after. So petty. A trinket. But he could not stop now. He had to prove it existed. He had to find it. Before anyone else. Before-

"Good luck, Merlin." The dragon crawled backwards and took off into the air, chain rattling as it flew upwards to some unknown perch. "See that you do not forget your destiny."

Merlin stood there a moment, watching the beast disappear into the darkness. He then turned around and walked back up the tunnel, the blue flames flickering in his hand. Destiny? No such thing, really. At least, he hoped not.

* * *

"Did you get any sleep at all?"

Merlin yawned. Gaius had that pinched look, narrow eyes, and that ridiculous crooked eyebrow his mother used to wear when she was telling him off. Some things never change.

He nodded. "Some. Not a lot." This was mostly due to the subterranean talking dragon.

"I expect not, considering the night you had." Gaius grumbled. And, as Merlin sat down at the table, the old man dropped a bowl of porridge in front of him. "Eat. And hurry, I've got some errands for you."

"What are they?" Merlin picked up the spoon and eyed the sludge of mushy oats, sweet-smelling honey, and… something else he couldn't quite identify. He poked at it with his spoon. No, still couldn't figure it out. It was brown and lumpy, though.

"Some deliveries." Gaius was hurrying about his chambers. Picking up this, moving that, packing something in a bag then dashing across the room to stir something on the fire. Merlin was distracted enough by the fuss that he quite conveniently forgot about the brown lumpy porridge. Very conveniently.

As soon as Gaius's back was properly turned, Merlin fixed his eyes on the porridge and muttered: "Evanesco!"

Of course the bowl vanished too, not just the porridge and the brown lumps. No wand meant no direction for the spell. Goodbye bowl. Merlin sighed and got up from the table, pushed in his chair.

Gaius looked back. "Finished already? Good."

And he held out a leather pouch with the neck of a small bottle poking out, stopped with a little cork. "Deliver this to the Lady Morgana, poor girl's suffering from nightmares. And-" Gaius took Merlin's arm and was slowly transporting him to the door. "Get me some herbs: henbane, wormwood, and sorrel." He opened the door and pushed Merlin out. "Have you got all that?"

"Yes, yes." Merlin nodded. "Take Lady Morgana some henbane, wormwood, and sorrel because she's been suffering from herbs and then I need to go gather some nightmares for you?"

Gaius paused a moment, eyes upward, obviously thinking. The moment passed. He frowned then slammed the door in Merlin's face.

Well, Merlin consoled himself, I thought it was funny. And he hurried off, yawning as he went.

It took him a couple tries and a few questions, but he eventually sussed out where Morgana's chambers were. Of course, though, he took his time. Had another look around the castle. It was a lot easier to explore and commit a building to memory when the staircases and rooms weren't shifting around every hour or so. He noted where the banquet hall was, which was where Lady Helen, or whoever she was, would be singing. He passed what must have been the throne room. Figured out where the kitchens were by following other servants down some stairs. And once again, eyed the deep, steep steps down into the dungeons and other unknown chambers. But that adventure would have to be for another day.

Finally, he made his way up a stone spiral staircase, walked a few paces down a narrow corridor, and found himself before the open doorway of the Lady Morgana's chambers. He stopped. A woman stood there, tall, long dark hair falling down to a dark blue dress. Probably Lady Morgana. Most likely, anyway. Merlin opened his mouth, announce himself, something. But she had turned away and started speaking by the time his lips parted.

"You know, I've been thinking about Arthur. I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole. Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?" And she disappeared behind a lovely, little carved wooden screen, presumably for changing.

Merlin bit his lip. He certainly wasn't Gwen, whoever that was. "Um, Lady Morgana, I've-"

"What?! Who's there?!" The Lady's head popped out from one side of the screen. She spotted him, eyes widened. "Who are you and what are you doing in my chambers? I will call the guards if you do not tell me! Now!"

Merlin fumbled a moment then held up the bottle in the little leather pouch. "Gaius has sent this to you, my Lady. I'm his nephew. Sorry." And he turned his back to give the lady some privacy. But to be fair, if she was going to be changing her clothes willy-nilly, she really should have shut her chamber door first. "Shouldn't have snuck up on you like that, my apologies."

"Gaius has a nephew?"

Merlin heard some kind of frantic rustling behind him, but he kept his back turned just to be safe. He cleared his throat. "Yes, ahm, he does. I'm Merlin."

"I've never seen you in Camelot before." The Lady's voice was right behind him now. She had snuck up on him now. Tables turned. A hand snaked around and snatched the bottle from his hand. His stomach felt tense, some kind of anticipation.

Merlin chanced a small glance over his shoulder and he caught a glimpse of her blue dress and dark hair. "Sorry, yes, I've only just arrived. Just the other day."

"You can turn around now."

Merlin did as he was told. Something felt off, but he couldn't put his finger on what it exactly was.

The Lady Morgana, a full six inches shorter than him, stared up at him. Though to Merlin, it felt like she was towering over him.

Their eyes met. Green. And blue. A rush of cold. Ice in his veins. Shattered glass. A pain between his eyes and seconds felt like hours. Something was off. The smell of dead leaves. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Merlin swallowed hard and opened his eyes. When had he closed them?

"Are you ill?" She frowned and retreated.

Merlin shook his head and struggled to get his bearings back. He was still standing in the Lady's Morgana's chambers. Ran a hand down his face. What was that? He reached out and steadied himself on the doorframe.

"You just became very pale. Are you sure you are well?" He heard something being poured and suddenly the Lady was there beside him with a goblet of water.

"No." Merlin smiled. "Sorry, I'm- I'm fine. I should go. Sorry, again." He turned to go and quite suddenly found himself bowling over a rather solid object. An object that squealed and was all arms and legs and a pink and white frock. It was blur, really.

"Oh, Gwen, are you hurt!?" Merlin heard the Lady Morgana exclaim from somewhere behind.

So this was Gwen, Merlin noted.

Merlin eventually found his feet amongst the tangled limbs and helped the other woman to her feet. He dusted off her dress. "I'm so so sorry, really sorry. My fault-"

The woman called Gwen panted and winced a little, eyeing Merlin. "No, it's okay, I wasn't looking where-"  
"Neither was I." He laughed a little. Just moving away from the Lady Morgana seemed to ease that strange feeling that had come over him. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." Gwen tucked some stray hair behind her ear, shaken loose by her fall.

Merlin held out his hand. "Merlin. And you're Gwen?"

The woman in the pink and white dress took his hand, hers was warm and rough. Callused. "I'm Guinevere, but most people call me 'Gwen'. I'm the Lady Morgana's maid."

"I'm Gaius's nephew."

"I didn't know Gaius had a nephew."

The Lady Morgana circled around Merlin and took Gwen's arm, facing Merlin with her maid. "He's new in Camelot. Come Gwen, I need some help with dressing." And she slowly drew her maid into her chambers.

"It was nice to meet you." Gwen smiled at Merlin.

Despite himself, Merlin felt the heat of a blush. "I'll try not to knock you down next time."

He heard Gwen's laugh just as the chamber door closed in his face.

* * *

"Now, I suggest that you keep your head down and stay by me. And! Do as you're told, hmm?" Gaius hissed as they entered the banquet hall.

The number of voices that hit Merlin's ears sounded much like the cacophony of a well-populated square mile of woodland in the height of summer, rustling and filled with a waterfall of birdsong. It was so busy and crowded. Would he even have the space to breathe? Merlin wondered.

He remembered another crowd, another day, another place- Merlin closed and opened his eyes. Hard. Blinked it away. Took a deep breath and… He followed Gaius closely through the crowd.

Gaius was still talking too. " -already run afoul of the King and his guest, especially his guest, Lady Helen. So be on your best behavior and don't be…"

"Charming?" Merlin offered.

"What? No!" Gaius snorted. "I was going to say: 'odd'."

"Easier said than done." Merlin muttered.

"I suspect you've never been to a feast much less one held by the King. You see, there are certain rules of etiquette that must be adhered to and they…" Gaius was beginning to drone on and on, and frankly, Merlin stopped listening once he spotted the Lady Morgana.

The crowd between them was dense, full of long colorful skirts and miles worth of embroidery, but he was just tall enough to see over most heads. She had chosen a red dress, instead of the blue. He would have preferred something green.

He cast his gaze down to Gaius again.

To bring out her eyes, of course.

That strange uneasy feeling had washed over him again when he had looked at her. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. It was like nothing he had ever felt before.

"...remember, you're here to work." Gaius was saying with a sharp tug on Merlin's sleeve and narrowed eyes.

Merlin nodded and turned his attention to the table setting. He had been handed napkins to lay down, ages ago. Folded one, gently set it down, moved to the next place. Glanced up at the Lady Morgana again. Some blonde oaf was talking to her. What an ugly specimen he was! He was absolutely- The man turned around, just enough for Merlin to see his face.

Ah.

That was the Prince.

And the Prince had just caught him staring. Lovely.

Merlin smirked and looked back down to his work. I'll just stand here and wait for the executioner then, shall I?

A voice spoke just beside him. "She looks great, doesn't she?"

Merlin cocked his head back a little and caught sight of a pink and white frock and those warm hands clasped around a wine pitcher. "Oh! Hullo, Guinevere." He laid a napkin down, answering carefully. "It is a lovely dress."

"And she wears it very well, very elegantly. Some people are just born to be queen." Merlin heard a trickle of wine being poured into a goblet beside him.

Poor woman had to marry the Prince? "Really?" He asked, looking back at the maid.

"I hope so. One day." Guinevere or Gwen nodded, following Merlin as he moved from place setting to place setting, along the table. "Not that-"

"Too bad it has to be the Prince though." He had run out of napkins and shoved his hands in his pockets and aimed a smile down at Guinevere.

"Yes." The maid laughed softly, barely heard above the low roar of the crowded hall. "I agree. I wouldn't want to… Marry him, that is, I mean."

"Neither would I." Merlin sighed and raised an eyebrow at the maid.

She giggled.

Merlin leaned on the table, watching her pour wine. Not much else to do. "Do you prefer Gwen or Guinevere?" He asked. Someone had the gall to call him "'Lin" once and he had always asked what everyone prefered after that. Names were important.

"Oh." She stopped what she was doing and looked up, eyes darted behind his right shoulder, and stayed there. Her smile disappeared. "Look out." She muttered, passing him and hurrying away.

What was that about? Merlin had just enough time to think this when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder. Hard. In the corner of his eye, he saw a bit of blonde hair and something red, red cloth. Something like that.

"Come with me. Outside corridor. Now."

Merlin felt a strong grip tighten around his arm and pull him along towards the door that he and Gaius had entered through. Merlin let himself be led. He suspected that digging in his heels wouldn't do any good. Besides, Gaius had advised him to do as he was told. The door drew nearer and nearer. The hand about his arm was just big enough for the fingers and thumb to touch, or rather, his arm was small enough. A sad testament to his upper body strength. Merlin sighed as he was dragged out the banquet hall and into the quiet outside corridor. It was empty. The only sound that could be heard were a few torches, sitting in brackets on the walls and crackling every so often.

Merlin was hurled back into the stone wall and vice-like grip closed around his collar, nearly lifting him off the ground. His head had hit the stones. A small brief flash of light. Someone was talking. Talking very low and very fast. His collar tightened and he felt the pump of blood that flowed through his neck struggling against it. Breath became difficult. He knew that his neckerchief would be the death of him one day!

"I know you tripped me the other day. I don't know how you did it, but you did!" The Prince hissed in his face.

Merlin kept his eyes closed though.

He had two choices right now.

"If you had wanted to test yourself against me, you should have just asked, instead of that cowardly act. So I'll give you a chance to do the noble thing."

He really couldn't breathe now. He had two choices before him. Either act, and whatever would spring into his mind first would certainly be some sort of spell or curse.

Or do nothing. And wait.

If he chose the first, he would have to flee Camelot.

Merlin opened his lips and tried to draw a breath. Nothing.

The Prince's voice was growing softer. Speaking quieter, or was Merlin's hearing going strange. There was a faint ringing.

"Midnight, tonight, you will meet me in the training field and we can settle this like men. I'm giving you the chance to redeem your honor. I suggest you take it."

The grip was released.

Merlin blinked. Blinked again. He was on the floor, gasping. How did he get there? His hands were shaking. Whole body shaking. Stone floor was cold. For a moment… Merlin took a deep, shuddering breath. For a moment he thought he was somewhere else. He thought he was back there…

But he wasn't.

He wasn't there anymore, he was somewhere worse. Much worse.

Using the wall as support, he slowly got to his feet, massaging his throat. He was alone out here in the corridor. The Prince had obviously left, gone back to the feast. Beyond the doors that led into the banquet hall, he could still hear the many voices of the merry crowd. Laughing and talking. Was it worth going back in? Maybe he should just… He sighed and leaned on the stone wall, closed his eyes again. Stay out here?

No, Gaius would have his head.

Merlin walked to the door, opened it, and slipped back inside. The clamor of the crowd was almost too much. He winced. And he could feel the bruises rising on his throat. Merlin adjusted his neckerchief and hoped that it would hide whatever marks the Prince had made. He looked for his uncle. Couldn't spot him. Merlin edged his way around the hall, squeezing in between people.

A horn blared.

Merlin jumped. And suddenly, Gaius was beside him. The old man nudged him into a corner with another young man, another servant probably, and hissed. "Stay here." And then Gaius disappeared into the hurrying crowd. Everyone was rushing to stand at their places at the tables.

The King strode in. Merlin saw the Lady Helen enter too and stand at the far end of the hall. The King was speaking, talking about something inane. But all Merlin could focus on was the Lady there. Who was she?

She knew magic, certainly, judging by her book of spells and the dark magic she had put on him when he was caught in her chambers. Yes, he had suspected some kind of dark magic, something that drained the victim of energy or life. Something like that. It was what she had attacked him with, since he had felt extremely tired afterwards. Dozed off and on while in the dungeons.

The King finished talking. Everyone sat down. Merlin spotted the Prince sitting at one the tables but he quickly looked away. He felt his stomach burn and his lips tingling. He wouldn't be able to control himself now. Took a deep breath. He would have to wait and stay calm, and he would have his revenge soon. That slimy, dull, git! Clotpole! What an arse. Spoiled arrogant brat! He would turn the Prince into something worse than a newt. Much worse. He would-

The Lady Helen opened her mouth to sing.

And as the first few notes of the song came, he felt that same exhaustion threaten him. The same tiredness that overcame him in the Lady Helen's chambers. Merlin wobbled, noticed his weakness, then stuck his fingers in his ears. He immediately felt a little better. He watched the scene, heart pounding.

The Lady kept singing.

And all the guests were dropping asleep, one by one. Cobwebs materialized. The torches dimmed and went out. He saw Gaius fall asleep. And Guinevere, or Gwen. And the Lady Morgana's face was covered with a thick cobweb, like a veil. The Lady kept singing. Merlin looked back at her, easily casting a spell here in front of the King and his entire court. He was dumbfounded.

How was this allowed to happen?! Wasn't magic supposed to be illegal here?!


	6. Lucky Bloody Peasant

**Chapter 6: Lucky Bloody Peasant**

* * *

Merlin's breaths were soft, but he still noticed the white mist that curled from his lips. It was deathly cold. The fires had gone out and the feast hall was freezing and dark. He shivered, feeling a thrill cascade down his spine. His fingers were dug into his ears, painfully, still keeping out the Lady Helen's singing. But just barely. He yawned. Wanted to close his eyes.

Merlin stepped forward, he had to do something, and fast. She was still singing and walking towards the center table. Towards the King. Towards the Prince.

Merlin hesitated, heart pounding in his chest.

Why should he care? The King, that monster sitting there asleep, was responsible for so much death. Merlin took another faltering step forward. He didn't deserve to be saved.

Merlin's steps finally put him behind the sleeping king. The crown on his head gleamed coldly in the darkness beneath a few cobwebs. He took a hand from one ear and raised it towards Lady Helen. Her song burrowed into his ear, into his mind. His eyes became heavy and Merlin fought off the sleep that threatened to overcome him.

The King didn't deserve to be saved. People rarely got what they deserved though. Merlin's eyes flickered between Gaius and the approaching Lady Helen. The physician was safely asleep. Thank the Gods, everyone was asleep. So, no one would see this.

"Not another step." His voice was thick. "Sh-... Shut up!" He struggled to be heard over her song.

She kept singing.

Merlin squinted as something flashed in her hand. A knife! Raised overhead. Poised to throw it.

Merlin did his best to aim his spell through his hand. A flash of red-gold light. The knife clattered to the floor.

Lady Helen stopped singing, finally.

Merlin swayed dangerously on his feet, the Lady's spell still heavy on him.

Eyes on him, she bent to retrieve the knife. Her gaze was murderous.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you." Merlin slurred, keeping his hand out towards the Lady, though he wasn't sure what else he could really do without a wand. He began to make his way around the center table. It was difficult to control wandless magic.

The Lady straightened back up. "You don't know what you've done, boy."

Merlin heard a shifting behind him. The people were waking up. The spell was wearing off. Merlin dropped his hand to his side, feeling the blood drain from his face. He couldn't let anyone see him do magic. He'd be executed next to Lady Helen.

Merlin stumbled closer to the knife on the floor. He kicked it far away, and it skittered across the stone floor.

"Traitor!" The Lady spat at him.

I am. I am a traitor. There's no changing that now.

"Quiet." He muttered.

But she didn't become quiet at all. Quite the opposite. The Lady Helen opened her mouth wide, breathing in as she did so. The air froze. Merlin felt his exposed skin go numb. He raised his hand. He could knock her out, just something to stun her. He spoke the words. His spell went wide, missing the Lady Helen by a mile.

And then she screamed.

Merlin's legs went out from under him. Hands clamped over his ears. He barely noticed hitting the stone floor. It was loud, so unbelievably loud. He thought his head would burst. He wished it would. Her cries ripped through his body and he tumbled onto his back, writhing in pain.

Something wet on his fingers. Wet and warm. Vision darkened. Merlin screamed too, though he couldn't hear it. The vaulted ceiling above. The chandelier. His lips moved. And he hoped.

And suddenly, the scream stopped.

Merlin's hands fell away from his ears, wet and sticky. He sighed and let his head rest on the cool stones. He couldn't hear much, but he could see people moving in the corners of his eyes. Their voices filtered through a little, like murmuring. Someone cried out.

Merlin turned his head. Beside him, not a few inches from his face, lay the face of Lady Helen. But she wasn't Lady Helen any more. It was an old woman. Merlin blinked slowly. Thinking was difficult.

It was the old woman from the execution. The one whose son had been put to death. Merlin swallowed hard against some bile. Blood flowed from the corner of her mouth. He wanted to be sick but he willed himself not to.

A hand clamped around his upper arm and hauled him to his feet. Everything went blurry. His ears rang and he felt the something trickle down his neck. Gaius was there, saying something. Merlin tried to find the words. The old man was asking something. The hand on his arm was tight and hurt.

"S-sorry." Merlin stuttered out. He tried to say something else but he couldn't hear his own voice very well. He mumbled something and tried to stand up straight, pulling away from the grip on his arm. He put a hand to a wet ear and his fingers came away red with blood. His ears were bleeding… He gagged again. Swallowed hard. Wiped his hand on his pants.

The King and the Prince stood over the witch, formerly Lady Helen, examining the body. "Lady Helen never arrived here." The King spoke, his words fuzzy in Merlin's ears.

"The question is, where is the real Lady Helen?" The Prince asked.

"I'll send out a few of the knights to search the roads, perhaps she was delayed." The King answered, though he didn't sound hopeful.

It was doubtful that the real Lady Helen was still alive.

Merlin stared down at the body, he couldn't quite take his eyes from it.

Gaius was speaking and Merlin was only able to catch a few of his words. "...my chambers...need sleep...ears...Merlin?"

Merlin froze, watching the fingers of the old woman caught beneath the chandelier twitch. Flex. Merlin watched in horrified fascination. And then, like a snake striking, the woman reached for the ankle of the Prince.

Merlin stumbled forward, throwing himself into the Prince. That was all it took to move him back a few steps.

"What-?!" The Prince squawked. "Get off, idiot!"

Prince Arthur shoved Merlin aside, brushing off his coat. Merlin slumped to the floor again.

But he had succeeded. The old woman's fingers fell short of the Prince's ankle, she groaned and went still again, her arm outstretched from beneath the metal chandelier. Trembling, frozen like a claw. Merlin sighed and relaxed a little, still dizzy and thick-headed. He felt very much like lying down, and maybe sleeping for a week.

"Merlin." Gaius's voice came from far away, but he could feel the physician's hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

Merlin pointed to the woman's hand. "She-...she can drain the life out of you..by touch." He began to get to his feet again, using Gaius as support. "She could have healed herself, jumped up...then we'd be in trouble all over again." The words spilled from his lips. He said too much.

"Gaius? What is the meaning of this?" The King stared at Merlin, lips tight. "How does he know so much about the magic that this witch does?"

Gaius looked to him. The King looked to him. An uncomfortable pause.

Merlin swallowed hard. "Uhm...I, uh, was an apprentice of a Witchfinder for a bit. I learned a lot." He shrugged.

"Gaius, is this true? Your nephew was a Witchfinder's apprentice?"

Another pause. "Yes, yes. Of course." Gaius answered.

Merlin sighed, quietly, feeling a little more steady on his feet now.

The King stared into him. Merlin felt like he was being examined, inside and out. The silence finally ended when the King clasped Merlin's hand and shook it. "You saved my boy's life. A debt must be repaid."

The Prince was staring daggers at him. Merlin could have laughed. If he had the energy or the gall. "That's very kind of you, your highness, but I don't-"

"Don't be so modest. This merits something quite special."

Merlin shook his head. "Ahm, it's not-"  
"You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant."

Oh no. Merlin felt all the blood drain away from his face.

"Father!" The Prince exclaimed, shooting Merlin a deadly look.

Merlin leaned on Gaius a little, hanging his head. He was going to be murdered in that duel later.

It was when they opened the door to Gaius's chambers that Merlin realized they had been walking this entire time, one of his arms slung over Gaius's shoulders. His mind had been somewhere else fuzzy and dark. He woke up a little bit more when Gaius sat him down on his bed in the back room. The old physician had been muttering the entire journey from the feast hall to his chambers.

"Now," Merlin heard him say. "Let's get you comfortable." And Merlin felt Gaius pull off his boots.

"Thanks." Merlin drew his legs up onto the bed and laid down on his side. His bed felt so good.

"Sit up, I've got to get that blood off your face." Gaius had walked away, out of the room, calling out behind him.

Merlin winced and sat up again. "It's fine." He whispered.

Gaius returned with a damp rag. "Just be a moment." A few minutes passed in silence as Gaius gently wiped the dried blood from Merlin's neck and ears.

It was almost soothing.

"How's...?" Gaius asked him something but Merlin couldn't quite make it out.

"Hmm?"

"I asked, how is your hearing?" Gaius straightened up and looked down at Merlin. "But I supposed that answers my question."

Merlin cast his eyes to the floor. Yes, that was something that had been eating away at him. Would he ever get his hearing completely back? If they had a proper healer here at Camelot, a magical one, something might be done for him. But there wasn't. And there was little hope in repairing the damage that had been done.

Merlin sighed. "Will I get it back?"

"Give it time." Gaius reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Then he stood there for an awkward moment before sitting down on the bed too, beside Merlin. "Seems you're a hero."

Merlin chuckled dully. That was not what he had intended. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"No." The old man seemed to search for the words. "You're Hunith's son, my nephew, I wouldn't expect anything less."

Merlin smiled, despite himself, despite his aching ears. "Got to make my namesake proud, haven't I?"

Gaius wrapped an arm about him and they sat like that for a bit. Gaius finally stood up again. "Well, I'm ready for bed. It's a been an…" He yawned. "Eventful night."

Merlin nodded. "I don't think I can be the Prince's manservant. I don't- I don't know the first thing about it." It wasn't really that he didn't think he could do it, it just wasn't part of his plan.

Gaius stopped in the doorway to the back room, Merlin's room, and looked back. "He'll teach you what you need to know. He's...thorough."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"It'll be good experience. And," Gaius reminded him. "When you have free time, you can learn from me."

Merlin nodded again. If he was here long enough to learn anything. It was looking like he would staying at Camelot for a bit longer than he first intended. What he had first intended… Merlin closed and opened his eyes.

"Gaius, I've got something to tell you."

"What is it?" His uncle crooked an eyebrow.

Merlin opened his mouth. No words would come.

I'm a wizard. I have magic. I'm not who I say I am. I'm looking for something, a magical artifact lost long ago and I believe that it's here in Camelot.

No words would come to his lips, except: "Thank you." Merlin bowed his head. "Thank you for taking me in. I'm grateful."

"We're family." Gaius said, as though that explained it all. And he looked Merlin over one more time. "Get some sleep."

Merlin breathed in and out, slowly, carefully. Yes, sleep sounded nice right about now.

Just then, there was a hammering on the door to the physician's chambers. A voice called through the wood. "Merlin? Prince Arthur wants you right away!"

* * *

It felt like he had been waiting for an eternity. Arthur crossed his arms and leaned on the stone wall. Finally, finally, he heard footsteps down the corridor. A guard with a torch turned a corner, a dark figure following behind him. Arthur bent down and picked up a bundle at his feet, it clanked a little.

"Took you long enough." He said to the guard.

"Sorry, sire."

The guard drew level and the torchlight fell across the face of the boy that walked behind him. He was pale.

Arthur smirked. "You may go." Arthur gestured down the corridor, back the way the guard had come.

"Yes, sire." The guard stepped away, going back to his watch, and taking the torchlight with him. Arthur watched him the whole way, watched him turn a corner and disappear.

Arthur sighed and picked up the two shields he had set to the side, hidden in the dark. Eyes wide in the darkness, Arthur looked to the boy. "Ready?" He asked.

"Hmm?" The boy frowned and put a hand to his ear.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but vaguely remembered the scream of the witch. It had been loud. Horribly so. Maybe he was having trouble hearing? "I asked, are you ready?" He repeated, a little louder.

He saw the dark-haired youth nod despite the dim light. The boy had a pack on his shoulder.

Arthur snorted and began walking the other direction. "Come on then. Follow me."

He could tell that the boy followed him, despite his soft footsteps.

The journey to the training grounds seemed to take forever. "I expected you to turn tail and leave the city." Arthur spoke over his shoulder. The shields knocked together softly as he walked.

"Why did you expect that?" The boy whispered back.

"Why else? You're a coward." Arthur stopped and looked around a corner. "You should be thanking me." The corridor was clear and they continued on. "Come on."

"Why would I thank you?" The boy retorted.

"Shut up!" Arthur hissed and listened a moment. No sound of footsteps. No guards nearby. He started walking again. "Because…" A pause to listen again. "I am giving you a chance to regain your honor."

A chuckle from behind.

Arthur whirled around. "You think this is funny?"  
"No." The boy cleared his throat. "Sire." He added.

"Good." Arthur started walking again.

When they finally arrived on the training ground, the light of the moon rendering their surroundings only just visible. He dropped the shields and the bundle on the ground. Arthur unwrapped the bundle and took out four torches and two swords. He stuck three of the torches in the ground in a semicircle.

The boy tossed his pack outside the semicircle.

He didn't really want to kill the boy. He just wanted to give him a good thrashing and send him back to whatever backwater village he came from. Just remembering how he'd slipped and fallen the other day made his cheeks redden. It was his fault he hadn't noticed the mud until he fell into it. But this brat had definitely tripped him into it, somehow.

It was a matter of honor, Arthur told himself.

And he wanted to get even. Though that was less honorable.

Arthur took out his firesteel and tried to light the last torch he held, but it wouldn't catch. He tried for a ridiculously long time before the youth knelt down beside him and took the torch away. Arthur huffed and stood up, picking up the swords.

In a moment, the torch he had been trying to light was blazing.

Arthur didn't know what to say, so he just drew his sword, watching the boy light the rest of the torches, one by one. When he was done and both young men stood within the cross, they were bathed in a circle of orange light. Arthur held the other sword out to the boy. The boy drew it. They each picked up a wooden, round shield.

Arthur took a stance. "So," He said, then remembered to raise his voice a little. "I, Prince Arthur Pendragon, have challenged you…." Arthur thought a moment. "Your name?"

"Sir Clotpole of Hogwarts."

Arthur could just make out the boy's smirk in the dim torchlight.

"Sir-" He spluttered. "Of what- Your real name, if you please?"

"Merlin Hunith's Son."

"Thank you." Arthur nodded. "Have challenged you, Merlin whoever's son, to a duel. The duel comes to an end when you either yield, or I kill you."

"Or if you yield." The boy remarked.

"That won't happen."

"Or if I kill you."

"That certainly won't happen." Arthur growled.

"Aren't there usually witnesses to duels?" The youth let the sword blade rest on his shoulder, as though he were carrying a fishing pole.

Yes, there were. Arthur relaxed his stance and let the tip of his sword rest in the grass. But, this wasn't really an actual duel with rules or approval. This was a private brawl where he intended to get revenge. But he hadn't wanted to say that. The boy did not need to know.

Arthur just shook his head. "Did you want someone to witness your humiliation?"

The boy shrugged and took what looked like a good defensive stance. Good foot placement, Arthur noted.

"Ready?" The boy asked.

"Are you?" Arthur took a stance as well, offensive but not overtly so, and raised his sword.

"What do you think?" His tone was sarcastic, mocking.

Arthur wrinkled his nose. The nerve! He'd give this brat a good thrashing.

They circled for a time. Arthur tried to watch the boy and keep his eyes off the torches. If he looked at them, their brightness would leave him blind in the dim light.

"So, a Witchfinder's apprentice?"

"What?"

"You were a Witchfinder's apprentice, yes?" Arthur repeated for the nearly deaf boy.

"What of it?" The boy asked.

"Did you run away, or did he sack you?"

Arthur saw the boy tense. He was an untrained peasant, and Arthur meant to keep him unfocused and off-balance. He looked for weak points in the boy's stance.

The boy began to speak. "I didn't-"

Arthur interrupted. "And what kind of name is 'Merlin', anyway? Sounds like a girl's name." Arthur made a decision as to where he would strike first. The boy held his shield a little too high. A little too loose.

"What kind of name is Arthur One-Ear?" The youth's sword caught the light of a torch, burning orange like it had been in a furnace.

"That's not my name." Arthur frowned.

"It's about to be." And Merlin attacked.

Arthur casually raised his sword, blocking the overarm strike, and brushed it away. The blade gleamed, flashed, lightning in the night. Easy.

Arthur leapt forward, shield up and bracing hard, acting as a battering ram. He barrelled into the boy's shield. A deep thud. Felt it in his shoulder and chest. The boy grunted and stumbled back. Arthur swiped hard at the boy's legs. They were unprotected. Easy target.

His blade swished, met air.

The boy had jumped back, eyes wide. He was quick.

Arthur closed the gap between them.

The boy met him, shield raised, swinging it. It came from the left, coming down hard. Just in time, Arthur raised his. A thud. He shuddered with the impact. His shield twisted against in his grip, pressed into his shoulder.

The boy's sword raised to stab, coming in from the left as well. Took advantage of the cockeyed shield.

Arthur ducked and spun with the momentum of the Merlin's strike. He felt the blade of the sword rake the top of his head, brushing his hair. Too close. Too close! Needed to gain some distance. Arthur kicked back with his right foot. Hard. Felt his boot connect with something soft. And audible groan.

When Arthur faced the boy again, he was doubled over, gasping. Probably got the wind knocked out of him. Good. Arthur stepped forward. This was his opening. And he attacked again. Once, twice, three times his sword flew. And three times the boy managed to raise his shield to block each one.

Lucky, bloody peasant.

The boy was forced to one knee. Weak, in pain.

Arthur wound back his shield to knock the Merlin's shield aside. He had him.

The boy rolled to the left. Arthur lost sight of him for a moment, his shield blocking his line of sight. And there was a fiery pain in Arthur's thigh. He gasped. Looked down.

The boy's sword tip pierced his leg.

Arthur jerked back. Took a couple steps back. Limped, despite himself. He felt warm blood run down his calf.

The boy got to his feet again, still gasping, still hunched over. And they circled again. Both limping. Both panting, hard.

After a minute or so, the boy let the tip of his sword drop into the grass. "Do you yield?" His voice was hoarse.

"What?" Arthur's head spun a little. Yield? Him?

"You're hit." Merlin groaned. "It's the first touch."

Who was this arsehole?

Arthur relaxed his shield a little. "I don't yield. It's a scratch."

The boy let his shield fall from his hand, thudding on the dew-covered grass. "Then, I yield."

Arthur was still trying to comprehend how a peasant had held his own in a fight against the Crown Prince. He frowned. "Wha-..." His thigh throbbed, making it hard to think.

Merlin tossed his sword aside. "That's allowed right? I don't have to let you kill me?" The boy then snorted and sat down in the grass, an arm clutched to his stomach. "Unless you insist on kicking me to death?"

Arthur sighed. "The duel ends in my favor then."

"Good." The boy lifted his shirt to look at his belly, gingerly touching what would probably become a bruise soon. "You must be very happy."

"I- You-" Arthur was having difficulty completing a sentence. "How did you learn to fight like that?"

"I was trained, same as you." The boy got to his feet again, but slowly, and groaning the whole way.

The duel was over. Arthur let the shield drop from his hand and put a hand down to his bleeding thigh. His pantleg was wet with blood. He sat down hard in the grass, the dew coating his hands. The night was becoming chilly.

"Witchfinders are trained with swords?" He asked.

"Yes." And that was all Merlin said.

"Well," Arthur sighed and tried to have a better look at his wound. It was useless. It was too dark out. He would just have to limp back to the castle and get Gaius to look at it. "If you weren't lowborn, and an arse, I'd probably start training you to be a knight."

A hand appeared in front of his face. Merlin was holding out his hand to Arthur.

Arthur took it and Merlin hauled him to his feet.

"Thought you hated me?" Merlin grunted.

"I do." Arthur picked up his shield and sword again. "Snuff out those torches. That's another reason you can't be a knight. I'd murder you during training."

Merlin put out the torches, gathered up his own sword and shield, and they began walking back to the castle.

"Yeah." Merlin's voice was still hoarse from getting the wind knocked out of him. "I'd probably murder you too."

"You're going to make a terrible manservant."

"I hope so."

Arthur laughed, despite himself. In the dark, he heard a small chuckle from Merlin too.


End file.
